If Only You Would Understand Me
by Firestar'sniece
Summary: Bucky is back home with Steve, but the aftermaths of Hydra enslavement are still taking their toll on him. Rumlow keeps stalking him. Steve is pressuring him for answers he doesn't have. T'challa wants him back in Wakanda. Political parties are pressuring to have him institutionalized, and Hydra is not done with him. Can Bucky keep his head above water without drowning?
1. Chapter 1: Readjusting

**Sequel to If You Could See Me As I Am.**

 **I don't own Captain America.**

 **Lots of brotherly love!**

Chapter One: Readjusting

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky's eyes darted to the notepads as the psychiatrists in the room around him kept scribbling away their observations. Nervously clenching his fists, Bucky looked down at the black cargo pants he was wearing. After wringing his hands, he pulled his open sweater closer to him, his black t-shirt underneath slightly faded. But it still looked pristine, the words Brooklyn Boys emblazoned on it.

Most of the doctors were older with grey hair. There was one woman and three men. Their clinical eyes watched as Bucky shifted his posture at the metal table. "Do you want some water?" The older woman asked, sensing his discomfort, and she readjusted her glasses as she watched him.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably again. The table was long and metal, the doctors on the other end of it. He glanced nervously at the one way glass that he could barely see through and knew that Steve wasn't there. He never was. They didn't want him observing their interactions with Bucky, and they'd suspected that he could at least somewhat see through the one way window that ordinary people couldn't. But there was a guard on the other side. The guard would get the water and bring it to him if he asked for it. The guard was also there for security purposes in case he 'lost it'.

Bucky shook his head. The dark room was oppressive enough and water wouldn't help. "No."

The woman nodded. "Very well. Let's continue."

One of the other doctors cleared his throat and Bucky looked at him. "You once mentioned that you had questions that you wanted to ask Rumlow. What kind of questions we those?"

He felt sick, and he clenched his fists. Bucky didn't understand why they had to keep bringing that up. He looked away. "That's my business."

"No, it's federal business," the other male replied. Bucky didn't like the men. They were bold and unmerciful. The woman was far more compassionate, especially in how she worded things. But she was still slick and sly with her tongue.

Why he had to go through this second review when he'd already gone through one, he didn't know. They weren't redoing the physical exam, but out of the two Bucky was beginning to wonder if psychological exams were worse.

Realising he had no choice but to answer, Bucky decided to go for a half truth and a partial truth. "Why."

"Why what?" the woman prompted.

Bucky looked up. "Rumlow is the last person to work directly with me. The others are dead. I wanted to know why."

"Why what?" the woman prompted gently again.

Bucky huffed, sitting up and moving his metal fingers through his hair in agitation. "Why everything! Why did Pierce make the decisions he did in regards to me? Why was I a captive of Hydra? Why did they do all that? And why... why me?"

Bucky whispered the last part softly, looking away in forlorn. He knew Rumlow didn't have an answer, but he still wanted to ask him that, as if he could wring an answer out of him.

He continued, "Why was I chosen? Why not someone else? Why not someone who was already Hydra? Why did Zola want me, specifically, all those years ago in Azzano? Why didn't they ever put a bullet in my head before they did all that so I wouldn't have to suffer? Why did I have to be their guinnea pig?"

Something compassionate was in the woman's face, an understanding of sorts. But the other doctors merely looked at him clinically. "Haven't you been working on this with your therapist?" one of the males asked.

Bucky didn't respond. He looked away. Finally, "They can't answer these questions. But Rumlow can."

"And you're sure that he can?" the other male pitched in.

Sighing, Bucky knew it was a lost cause. He knew Rumlow couldn't. It was back to lying again, but with a little bit of truth. "Rumlow was in the last leadership. The leaders had access to records that no one else had. They knew things that I didn't. Maybe, one of those records could tell me? And maybe Rumlow, who worked closely with Pierce, could explain some of Pierce's decisions regarding me?"

It was almost pleading the way that it came out in the end. Bucky was back to gazing at the doctors.

The doctors shifted as they stopped writing. One of the men was tapping his pen as he observed him. "It sounds to me like you're having trouble moving forward in life. This is something that you should be able to work with your therapist on."

"But he can't answer those questions! Rumlow can!"

The doctor that had last commented frowned. "Unable... to.. move... on.. from... trauma... Unable... to... let... go...of... past.." the stubborn man wrote and Bucky clenched his teeth as the male muttered his writing aloud.

"Maybe you should try going through what I go through and see if you don't have questions!" Bucky snapped.

The doctor looked up briefly, observing Bucky's clenched fist. "Trauma... affecting... ability... to... think... clearly.."

Unable to hold back his anger, Bucky slammed his metal fist on the table, causing all the doctors to jump. There was now a dent on the table. "Stop it!" Bucky shouted.

"Mentally... unstable... Gets... angry... at... slightest... comments..."

Bucky threw his chair clear across the side of the room, utterly demolishing it. " ** _Be quiet_**!" He could hear the guards on the other side bringing their guns up that had tranquilizer darts in them. Feeling in danger, suddenly, he moved to the door to retreat. "I'm leaving," he announced, breathing hard.

"You're not leaving until this evaluation is finished," the man on the far left firmly ordered. The doctors were still seated.

In mental agony, Bucky slammed his fist into the door with a scream. There was a crack in the door now. " _ **STOP ORDERING ME AROUND**_!"

Suddenly, footsteps were heard on the other side and Steve's distinctive voice was heard. "Let me in!" Steve demanded.

With a sigh heard on the other side, the door opened. But Bucky gasped and backed up, afraid, as he saw the weapons pointed at him.

Steve moved quickly in front of Bucky in a protective manner. "Lower your weapons! He feels threatened!"

The door shut quickly as one of the guards slammed a button on a panel on the wall on the other side.

Bucky moved closer to Steve, nervous as he gazed back at the doctors.

One of the men stood up with a sigh. It was the same one that was muttering what he was writing. "You shouldn't be here, Captain Rogers."

Steve clenched his fists. He moved forward in front of Bucky again. Steve was angry, Bucky could tell. "And you shouldn't be purposely agitating Bucky like that. What kind of a psychological exam is this?"

Something stirred in the other man's eyes. "I apologise. I did not realize that they had gone against our requests and were letting you watch everything somewhere else. We didn't want you to see that."

"Trust me!" Steve snapped. "It was a lot worse on TV than it would have been observing from the other side of the two way glass." With that, Steve nodded to the guard on the other side of the glass that he could see just as well as Bucky and that ordinary people couldn't see, whose gun was now down.

The doctor nodded again. "We knew it would be provoking," the doctor admitted. "But it was needul to measure his emotional response when provoked. We had to see how much control he has over his emotions."

Buckly clenched his fists. "I'm not doing any more."

"And with respect, Sergeant Barnes," the female doctor pitched in. "The comprimising of your emotions is very concerning to the public. Have you never thought that this is one way that Hydra has and may again manipulate you?"

Bucky looked away, still angry. "We have records of your emotional behavior before your recent kidnapping. You're more distressed since then. It's needful to gather accurate psychological data on you so we can evaluate how much this recent ordeal has affected you. As it is, you're starting to display other mental and psychological phenomenon as a result of this."

He wasn't happy about it, and he wasn't in agreement either. "You don't seem as in control of yourself," the female doctor probed more. "Not that you were before, but this is worse."

"And how could this possibly help anything?" Bucky snapped, still looking away. Steve didn't look convinced either.

"This could help your doctors treat you," was the response.

Steve didn't look convinced, and neither did Bucky. "Yeah, well they never had luck there," Bucky growled. "Open up!" Bucky demanded. "I'm leaving!"

No one did anything. Steve went to stand beside Bucky.

"Open up!" Bucky demanded again. "Or I'm breaking this door down!"

Steve sighed, rubbing his head with his hands and turning to the doctors. "At least give him a break!"

"We need to finish this as we started without breaks," one of the males replied, not budging.

Steve clenched his fists and everyone, even Bucky, gasped as Steve did something no one had ever thought he would do. No one expected Steve to act aggressively and rip the door off of it's hinges, tossing it aside as if it were nothing.

The guards were too stunned to raise their weapons. Others only reluctantly did so.

"No!" Steve turned around, angrily glowering at the doctors. "You've gotten enough in Bucky's head today, and forever as far as I'm concerned. We're going home."

"This is a federal case. You can't do this!" one of the doctors warned.

Steve turned around briefly. "And Bucky is _**my**_ charge. **_I_** am his guardian, not you! **_I_ ** have final say!"

With that, Steve took a gentle hold of Bucky's flesh arm and marched them out of there.

Bucky warily got on the motorcycle behind Steve after the man started the engine. He glanced nervously at Charles Mental Health clinic. "Are you sure yiu want to do this?" Bucky asked. He knew Steve was protective of him, but he had no idea how much until this very minute. It was like watching a momma bear guard her cubs. It was frightening. Even the doctors and guards were shaking at Steve's presence as Steve led Buck to safety.

"Positive," Steve firmly responded. The man donned a red, white, and blue motor bike helmet with glass in front that completely covered his face.

Sighing, Steve knew that Bucky was wondering if he had done something that he was going to regret later on. Finally, Bucky got on. After putting his helmet on, he tapped Steve's shoulder and they sped off.

(A few minutes later)

Steve was waiting for him to speak, Bucky knew. As he looked around the scenery to distract him, Bucky gently tapped Steve's shoulder, something brought to his mind that he wanted to bring up. When Steve grunted Bucky knew he had his attention. Steve still wasn't in a good mood after witnessing Bucky going through all that, and he cringed, wondering if now was the best time to bring up the subject.

"So," he started slowly, not sure how to continue. Finally, he just went for it. "What will happen to Clint?"

Steve stiffened. Bucky winced. Ever since Clint had begged Rumlow to let Bucky go and hadn't included himself in the deal, Bucky began reconsidering whether or not he perceived Clint as a threat.

"He should be prosecuted, Bucky," Steve's voice was shaking in anger. "He kidnapped you and took you out of country."

"But he didn't mean any harm by it!" Bucky begged. Wincing, he brought up something that he'd overheard Natasha say when they had been talking about this very topic. Bucky had been supposedly taking a nap at the moment. Unfortunately, he was caught by both Steve's hearing and Natasha's assassin skills. "His behavior was off. Natasha said it herself. Why won't you accept the answer?"

Steve sighed. "It's not as simple as that, Bucky. He got you hurt."

"Stop treating me as if I'm a helpless kitten!" Bucky snapped, tired of people's treatments for the day. Then he breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. "Well, I think you should forgive him. He's going through a lot right now and he needs you as your friend."

His best friend was agitated, Bucky could tell. Suddenly, they veered away from the road they should have taken to go home. "Why don't we got to the store, Bucky?" was Steve's strained voice.

Grumbling, Bucky glared at the sides of the road the remainder of the ride. Steve hadn't accepted what he had said. He could only hope that Steve would think on his words and in time finally acquiesce. So when Steve parked, Bucky promptly got off snapping at Steve, "Well _**I**_ forgive him!"

With a huff of air, Steve followed him inside as Bucky stalked inside Walmart. "All right!" Steve grumbled. Bucky knew he was going to consider what Bucky said, and while it wasn't exactly what Bucky wanted, a reconcilliation between him and Clint, it was good enough for now. It was progress.

Bucky turned away slightly, a smug smile on his face. Figures that out of all the people to get Clint and Steve to make up it would be Bucky. After all, Bucky had a special soft place in Steve's heart.

Feeling slightly better about himself, Bucky informed Steve, "I'm going for a walk. I'll meet you inside here in fifteen minutes." And Bucky's expression was depressed and exhausted again.

This triggered a concerned look on Steve's face. 'Oh, no!' Bucky thought. 'Not now!'

"Bucky, are you okay?" Steve placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeesing hard. Bucky shrugged him off, shaking his head. It was still hard getting used to touch again.

"No," Bucky admitted. "It was really, really stressful today." At least he was getting better at talking to Steve.

Steve nodded, recognising that Bucky needed his space. "All right," he allowed. "Just be careful. And Bucky? I hope you feel better."

A small smile was on Bucky's face at that. Steve still cared. Of course he did. But sometimes Bucky needed the reminder, even frequently because he still wasn't sure if he was worth it.

"Thanks," Bucky whispered.

Heading outside, Bucky took in the fresh air. Technically, Steve was supposed to be close by his side at all times, but Steve knew he needed his space. Besides, Bucky had his cell phone in case something happened and he needed help.

He took off on a jog a few blocks, going towards some small shops. Between the shops were alleyways. Though Bucky had been here many a time with Steve, he admittedly enjoyed window shopping. It gave him something to do. It was a way to refresh himself from all the drama he was surrounded with that stemmed from himself.

Bucky was so distracted from his ordeal that day that he didn't notice until the third block that someone was tailing him. Turning around, he spotted a young Asian looking man with a scarf around his neck. His gut clenched.

Though he didn't have any weapons, let alone guns on him because the restrictions the courts placed on him (angering Steve), he knew that he could fight the man off if need be. He just started reaching for his cell phone to text Steve when suddenly Bucky felt that Rumlow wanted him to turn down the closest side alley. He also felt that Brock didn't want Bucky to attack or harm the man tailing him, and that he didn't want Bucky calling for help.

That's when Bucky knew, they were Hydra.

Unable to resist his handler, Bucky felt close to tears. But he was forced to hold them back. Brock, for his part, sent Bucky reassuring comfort through the link. Bucky felt Rumlow emotionally send him feelings that it would be all right.

Waiting in distress, Bucky nervously watched the Asian man who had turned down the side alley as well. The man was watching him, somewhat amused at Bucky's terrified expression. But the man said nothing to him.

Finally, a black SUV came from the other side of the alley, and Bucky swallowed as he saw Rumlow. Rumlow sent his intention for Bucky to get in the vehicle.

Bucky walked over and Rumlow got out of the shotgun position. The Asian man tailed behind him and took Rumlow's place. Bucky got in the back row as instructed via his feelings, in the middle seat, squeesing past Hydra agents in the middle row. He swallowed as Rumlow sat beside him on the right, an agent already seated on his left. As both Brock and Bucky buckled in, Rumlow nodded to the driver who sped them away.

Rumlow sent reassurance through the link. "Long time, no see," he smiled. It was a friendly smile, but Bucky was still nervous of him. After all, it was no coincidence that Rumlow had picked him up, especially when he was vulnerable. Looking out the car as they left the alley, Bucky noted that there were no cameras there. There would be no evidence that he had been abducted.

"How did you find me?" Bucky asked as he was fairly sure that if they had been trailing him that day he would have noticed. He knew they trailed him sometimes, but Rumlow never let him say anything to anyone.

Rumlow rolled his eyes. "The twenty first century is a digital age. Cameras are everywhere, and you think that we can't find you and Steve, wherever you go? Besides, because of the bond I always know exactly where you're at. And if you tried hard enough, I'm sure you might be able to work out a general location on me."

Bucky shuddered. He ignored the last part as he didn't want to deal with it's implications. He knew it was true, though. But then there was the first part.

Walmart had cameras. The moment he left Walmart, they would have known. It was impromptu that they had done this, but chances are Rumlow had been waiting to get him aside privately for some time. And Bucky had unknowingly provided the perfect opportunity.

Brock sent comfort through the link. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

"You don't normally have me picked up this time of month," Bucky pointed out. "It's unusual, even for you. Besides, you already picked me up earlier this month."

Rumlow nodded. "Straight to the point." He squeezed Bucky's shoulder reassuringly which grounded Bucky slightly, it was comforting, which was probably why Rumlow had done it.

As the man looked out the window, he informed Bucky, "The King of Wakanda is interested in having you back in his country because of the whole Hydra having you for some time. Our sources indicate that Sam Wilson supports this decision."

Bucky frowned. He hadn't heard anything about this. "Steve wants me to have consistency," Bucky pointed out the obvious.

Brock turned to face him. "King T'challa is ready to kidnap you and Rogers if you don't agree to it. He thinks it's in both of your best interests. However that is not the issue." Rumlow sighed. "As strange as it sounds, Hydra doesn't want to stir up any trouble just yet. You're key to this whole position that is wrought with political complications. I'm leaving it in your hands to decide whether staying in the US or going to Wakanda will be the path of least conflict and going with it. It doesn't matter to us where you're at. Even if you're in Wakanda, we'll still have complete access to you." Rumlow let out a little smile.

Bucky shuddered. He didn't want conflict either, but if he decided for less conflict, then he was somewhat supporting Hydra. He didn't know what to do. But being that it was impossible fot him to disobey direct orders from his handler anyways, Bucky supposed his thoughts were mute point. So instead he asked another question on his mind. "How could you possibly have access to me in Wakanda?"

Rumlow smiled but didn't answer. Bucky shuddered. He knew that he wasn't going to get anything from his handler and owner on that.

As Bucky looked out the window, he noticed that they were back where they had picked Bucky up. Rumlow motioned with his head for Bucky to exit. Obeying, as always, Bucky did that and watched them drive away.

Suddenly, Bucky didn't feel like going for a walk. He felt sick to his stomach. And he also felt like his handler didn't want him to inform anyone of what just took place. Bucky wouldn't be able to, then.

Hurrying back to Walmart without trying to look suspicious, Bucky located Steve by the produce and milk aisles.

Steve looked up. When he saw Bucky, his expression told Bucky that Steve knew something was off. Bucky was going to have to up his game.

"You okay?" Steve broached the subject lightly.

Knowing that he would be unable to lie effectively, Bucky shook his head. "I want to go home."

Steve stared at him for a moment longer, knowing that something was off, before nodding. He led Bucky to the cashier, paid for what little goods they had, and then led Bucky back to the motorbike.

Like they normally did, Steve drove while Bucky held the small groceries. Bucky knew he was gripping too tightly, tighter than normal, and he knew the bread was being squeesed to death, but he couldn't help it.

As they entered the house, Steve turned around and put a concerned hand on his shoulder once more. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Bucky shook his head, looking away from Steve's worried, penetrating gaze. "Just leave me alone."

Bucky went to his room.

Steve didn't bother him after that.

(Clint Point of View)

Clint was currently under the guard of two men and one woman in suits who were there to make sure that he didn't escape. They worked for the Federal Government. But truth be told, if he wanted to escape, there was nothing they could do about it. Fortunately, for them, he had no intention of doing such.

He was currently pacing back and forth in agitation. But when he saw he black SUV pulling up in the distance, Clint stopped pacing and his breath hitched.

Out stepped Phil Coulsen, and once he stepped out, both Cooper and Lila, his young children, stepped out.

"Daddy!" Lila yelled and both Clint and his children raced to each other.

Clint embraced them all, crying hard as he held them close. He didn't ever want them out of his grasp again. "My kids!" he cried softly.

Phil watched the scene, taking his sunglasses off, his face wet. The other guards watched closely, their eyes wet to.

Finally, Cint stood up, his arms still wrapped around his two kids. He looked Phil directly in the eyes. "Thank you!" Tears were still pouring down his face.

Phil sighed, wiping his eyes, nodding.

"Where were they found?" Clint's voice shook, and the kids looked up at their father, slight tears of fear in their eyes.

"It turns out that you were correct," Phil replied after taking a moment to compose himself. "Those people that you and Barnes tried to reprimand were indeed slavers. As to why they'd taken your kids and sold them into slavery, I can't say. But they must have been aprehensive of what you'd discovered on your own about them."

Clint nodded. "I'd always suspected," he admitted. "I just never expected they'd find out that I had a wife and family and would take my wife hostage with Nathaniel and would sell my two other kids into slavery."

Phil eyed him in compassion. "You should have come to us," he then firmly, but not unkindly reprimanded Clint. "We would have helped you, you know that. You should have come to us instead of taking Barnes outside the country on a mission that he clearly couldn't handle. He may be trained for assassination, but he's not a spy."

"They had my wife hostage!" Clint protested mildly. "They threatened to kill her. I didn't know what else to do! After some digging, I thought she and the kids would be held there with the other slaves. I didn't expect my intel to bring wrong and bring up nothing!"

"I wouldn't say you brought up nothing," Coulsen disagreed. "Thanks to your actions, hundreds that day were delivered from slavery, and we got intel that allowed us to liberate thousands more in other locations. It may not have been your family, but for those people it made a difference."

Clint nodded, looking down at his kids. "I'm not saying it was right, what you did," Phil warned him. "It's never right to put someone in harms way like that who clearly isn't supposed to be on a mission or is unable to think clearly just so that you can get your family back. That, and you're lucky that your little fiasco didn't inform the ones who were holding your wife and young son hostage. They would have killed them for sure. Your actions put them at risk. You could say that in a way, Hydra was the best thing that happened because the little skirmish prevented them from getting a message to kill the hostsges. You're very lucky."

"I know," Clint whispered.

"And yet, ironically, it did provide the needed information to find Cooper and Lila and rescue them from slavery," Phil mused. "But it shouldn't have been done at Barnes' expense. He's dangerous too, and now we've got another issue on our hands wrought with even greater complications."

"What would you have had me do?" Cint begged. "No one was listening, and I had no way to get the evidence needed to prove that an investigation was needed. No one would approve of a mission for that reason. Would you have left my family and children in slavery? Besides, I'm already paying for my decision with jail time. I knew the risk and the potential consequences when I decided to do this. I have no regrets, and I would do it again, to see my family safe!"

"And Barnes?" Phil raised an eyebrow.

Clint looked away, clear regret seen in his eyes. "Not that. Never that. I'll never be able to get over what happened to him. I needed a partner who wasn't an Avenger for the mission, but I'd never wish for what he went through on anyone."

"He was sold into slavery too, because of your actions," Phil whispered.

Clint clenched his children tighter. "I know," he choked. "I was there and was forced to watch the transaction take place." He gazed fondly at his children. "And I'd not wish that on anyone. I hope to never see slavery again. I hope he never has to go through anything bad again."

"He already is," Phil acknowledged. "And now it can't be changed. The psychological consequences he's facing are enormous. But I know it wasn't your intention. So I ask that you follow my advise and give Steve and Bucky some space for at least a few months before you try to pursue patching up your relationship with Steve. Steve is really mad right now, and it's understandable. He doesn't exactly understand why you did it, and even if you tried to tell him the situation you were facing, he's not likely to listen right now, and it would only strain things more.

"But you still do owe both Steve and Bucky an explanation for your actions. It needs to be in person. They deserve to know why you made the decisions you did regarding Bucky. You clearly volunteered yourself as Bucky's babysitter for the intention of taking him out of country on a mission. You planned it ahead of time."

Clint slightly chuckled. "Bucky would not like to hear you calling me his babysitter. He does not like that term, even if that's what it technically is." A confused expression was then on Clint's face. "But how can I explain that to them when Steve has no intentions of visiting me in prison? I cannot see them face to face otherwise."

Phil shrugged. "Maybe that's because we managed to get your sentence migitated in light of the reason behind your actions. You weren't exactly thinking clearly yourself, and you still aren't. You're still very affected by everything, from your family to Barnes, and that's understandable.

"After Laura confessed what happened, we gathered all the evidence we could to help with your case. They've agreed to lighten the punishment considerably. After all, we told them that perhaps the natural consequence of knowing what happened to Barnes is consequence enough. They disagreed to leaving it to natural consequence, but they did lighten the sentence considerably. You won't be going to trial after all."

Clint's eyes widened. "Wow... Thanks..." Clint didn't know what to say.

Phil nodded. "It's a fine of five hundred thousand dollars, and community service of one hundred hours."

"That's it?!" Clint was surprised.

Phil nodded. "I sincerely hope that you enjoy waste management, because you're now a volunteer at a waste management plant three days a week to pay it off. But other than that, you're free to go. I advise spending as much time with your family as you can, especially after everything that's happened."

Clint nodded in gratitude. "Agreed!" he was enthusiastic. That was better than he expected. But then upon remembering Steve's anger, he flinched. "What does... Steve... think about this?" Clint was hesitant about it. He didn't want to anger Steve any more than he already was.

Sighing, Phil shrugged. "He hasn't been informed about anything yet. He's still too angry about everything, and he has his hands full with Bucky right now, so all of his focus is on him. But at the right time, we'll inform him of what happened to you and your consequence. Then you'll need to give your due explanation to both him and Bucky, at the same time preferably, and in person. No doubt Steve will be angry once he learns what's to become of you. But chances are, you'll have paid of your fine and community service by then."

Clint huffed. "It's probably the best that can be done." With that he tugged on his children, heading to the SUV and the guards that were waiting for him. He smiled at his children.

"Let's head home."

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow gazed around at the scenery where he was at. A large mansion surrounded by a lush, pine forest greeted him that went right up to the house. The mansion had many stories, and though Rumlow admired the view, it was time to go back inside for business.

Quickly, Rumlow located a petite woman with gorgeous brown, flowing hair staring out at the forest from a high balcony. Her beautiful velvet green dress with flowing train seemed out of place. The first day that Rumlow had arrived, she's been in business suits, but since the day of their acquaintance, she'd only worn formal clothes, as if trying to impress him.

Rumlow himself was staying in the seperate mother in law house with his male guards, in order to have propriety, while his female guards stayed in the mansion with her directly. "Rumlow," she greeted him without even turning around.

"Irina," Rumlow acknowledged her. He was still stunned by her beauty. The last time he had seen her, she was an orphaned teenager.

The woman smiled. "I told you use my middle name Yana. Irina is a bit too formal."

Rumlow smiled. 'So, she's playing with me. A leader of Hydra can technically call his subjects and the heads of his factions whatever he wants, and she knows that.' Rumlow decided play back. "Well, if Irina is too formal for you, then perhaps I should be even more respectful and formal and call you Ms. Sokolov?"

"Or we could switch to Russian and you could be formal with me there?" the woman flirted back. "Quite romantic a language, isn't it? I've always loved Russia. And I've always loved what Hydra could do for Russia, which is why I've joined."

The woman turned away from him again with such confidence, something one wasn't supposed to do to their leader. But she did it so gracefully, as if knowing she could get away with no one else would be able to do to Rumlow. And she was right. "The mansion is my mother's gift to me," she informed Rumlow. "My inheritance." She frowned.

Rumlow stepped up in concern. Since his arrival and despite only knowing Yana for a short period of time, only a couple of weeks since he arrived, he and Yana had developed quite a bond of friendship and a fondness for each other. Dare he say that it might even become something slightly more.

'It would make political sense to marry her,' Rumlow thought. 'She's the daughter of a Allana, a former head of Hydra. A powerful head of Hydra, of the most powerful.' Then Rumlow quickly shook his head. Pierce had taught him to not let his emotions rule him in judgment, even if he developed feelings for someone.

Sensing something wrong, he stepped up and placed a hand on Yana's shoulder. "Something wrong?" he asked. "Your mother was always kind to me, and I remember that she was fond of you. She would always talk about you. She loved you."

"And yet you seem to have inherited what was supposed to be mine," she somewhat bitterly replied, sighing. That's when Rumlow knew. Part of her wanted the Asset, wanted the leadership of Hydra. "My mother actually intended to replace Pierce with me once I was old enough. She thought a young leader was needful. Pierce agreed that having a young leader would be good, someone to lead Hydra for years to come."

"You knew your mother was sick?" Rumlow asked, surprised.

Yana nodded. "She thought she could at least make it until I was 18. She would have been able to make me heir then. Pierce was in agreement." She sighed. "But then she died, and Pierce got him. Not that I have a problem with his leadership. He even let me inherit some measure of what my mother had by letting me be head of the Russian faction of Hydra, which includes all former Soviet territories. I think, once I gained enough experience, he intended to switch Mitchel out with me.

"But then things began politically changing in the world which Hydra hadn't expected, and suddenly Russian was no longer the place most suited to have a leader from as the United Stafes gained more power and needed more help controlling. That required having a number of resources and leadership in America, something I wouldn't have been able to do from Russia. So Pierce kept Mitchel on."

"But you want to live up to your mother's legacy," Rumlow smiled, understanding where she was coming from. Perhaps that was why they had bonded so readily; both knew what it was like to have big shoes to fill. But that didn't stop her from being slightly jealous and envious, though not enough to be dangerous.

Yana smiled. Rumlow dedided to flirt back some, not quite sure why he was doing so. He'd never dated or been in a relationship before, neither had Yana. They'd both been preoccupied with their duties in Hydra and rising through the ranks. How Rollins had ever managed to get a girlfriend once with his busy schedule both with Hydra and Shield, he'd never known. But it did not work out because of how busy he was.

"So," Rumlow quirked a smile as he flirted. "Being the spouse of the practical Emperor of Hydra isn't good enough?"

Yana smiled. "You're so like my father," she muttered dryly, evidently pleased with his flirting. Rumlow could see that she had feelings for him too that she wasn't ready to acknowledge. 'Maxim Sokolov,' Rumlow thought, remembering the name of Allana's husband. Allana had chosen to keep her last name but had given her daughter her husband's last name. She had married him while still second in command to Hydra, but he had died and she had gained the leadership while pregnant, entrusting Egor as her second in command once she came into office.

"You never even knew him," Rumlow broached the subject carefully.

"But my mother told me stories," Yana acknowledged. "She said father got into her good graces because of his wit. She said that's why she noticed him enough to date him and marry him. She says I'm more like her."

"You are," Rumlow acknowledged. "I remember her slightly. She would come to America to meet with Pierce." Rumlow was a bit wistful at that. There was silence, and then Rumlow groaned. "Ugh! You're too young for me!"

"Am I?" Yana challenged. "You're the one who mentioned me marrying an Emperor." She smiled smugly at that, teasingly.

"And I was an adult when you were still a child," Rumlow pointed out.

"Teenager," Yana corrected. "And nearly an adult."

"When I saw you the first time," Rumlow acknowledged. "But if you think about it, I was at least twenty when you were born. I'm twice your age."

"And that didn't stop other people from falling in love and getting married," Yana pointed out. "My mother was twice my father's age. She always thought he'd outlive her and raise me because of his age, not the other way around."

"You're right," Rumlow conceded. He might be more her mother's age. Practically, however...

"It's still too early," Rumlow informed her, but he knew both of them were interested in pursing a possible relationship once things died down. It would also be politically advantageous to the both of them as well, not just because of romance. She had easier access to some resources than he did.

That, and she was the daughter of a Hydra leader. That gave her a lot of power. And for her to have access personally to American resources would be good for her. Plus, it would be good for her status if she did end up marrying him. Right now, she had equal power with the other heads of Hydra factions. If she married him, the scales would be tipped and she would have the most power out of all the heads of Hydra factions, practically making her the most powerful, after Rumlow and his heir of course.

'Unless I choose to replace my heir whose name I've written down and secured in a vault with her,' Rumlow thought. And he was beginning to consider it. He'd have to wait to see how their relationship turned out, first. Nobody knew who his heir was, after all, not even his current heir.

Yana sighed. "And now it's time to discuss policies," she set the tone, and Rumlow smiled despite knowing the fact that she had broken another rule by taking charge.

"Technically, I'm supposed to be in charge," he teased her.

Yana smiled, and then was back to business. She followed Rumlow as he began walking away. "The Winter Soldier," she asked. "You sure you want him in psychotherapy to enemies of Hydra?"

"Doesn't matter since I have a hold on him," Rumlow firmly replied careful in his words. "Even if he was "rehabillitated" some, it would only further our cause by catching Steve and the Avengers off guard. They don't know yet that I have control over him. It's all about timing."

Yana nodded. "Very well," she acknowledged. "I agree it's for the best. It's rather ingenius, if you ask my opinion. You have my support."

Rumlow smiled. She had been the easiest to work and convince so far out of all the heads of Hydra. She was also the last to visit. And Rumlow had no doubt that he could count on her support. In fact, she would probably be the most supportive out of all of the Hydra heads of factions.

Yana looked him up and down. "You will make a good leader," she murmured softly. "I have no doubt about that. Pierce did indeed train you well, just as my mother taught him well."

The woman sighed.

"Let's go discuss those finances, shall we?"

(Steve Point of View)

The next few days had been somewhat of a step back for him and Bucky. Bucky semed to be avoiding him. But, eventually, Bucky warmed back up to him.

It was during the time that Bucky was giving him the cold shoulder, that Sam had come over. They hadn't gotten far. Sam had mentioned to him that maybe it was in Bucky's best interests to go back to Wakanda, and Steve had gotten angry, when suddenly Steve heard Bucky stirring. He'd been taking a nap and had just woken up.

Both he and Sam were quiet when Bucky came out, his hair discheveled. He blinked in surprise when he saw Sam there.

"I'm leaving," Sam was quick to say. He saw himself out the door.

Bucky sat down. "What was that about?" he asked in genuine curiosity, staring at Steve in interest.

"Nothing!" Steve snapped, upset and deciding to give Bucky a taste of his own treatment, even though he didn't deserve it.

Bucky went back to giving him the cold shoulder after that, and Steve knew he was mad.

Eventually, they both calmed down. Finally, Bucky was back to talking to Steve again.

It happened after breakfast. Bucky sat down, humming softly, and Steve sat beside him. "I never got to apologise for snapping at you," Steve bumped his best friend's shoulder.

Bucky smiled softly. "Nah. It's cool. Or is that what they say nowadays?" He frowned in confusion.

Steve chuckled a little. "Let's not worry about young people talk, shall we?" Bucky nodded.

As he sighed in relief, Bucky asked a question and Steve almost wanted to cringe. "Why was Sam here the other day, Steve?"

Steve winced a second time. Then, sighing, Steve got into the whole converstation with Bucky. Bucky listened closely, patiently. Things were silent between the two of them, and Steve was left wondering what was going on in his best friend's mind.

Finally, quietly, Bucky whispered while looking down, not meeting Steve's eyes, "I want to go back to Wakanda, Steve." He looked up.

Steve was shocked. He didn't think that Bucky would ever say such a thing, especially since America was their home. Steve knew the shock was showing on his face for Bucky let out a wry smile. "What? I'm not allowed an opinion?"

Steve bumped his best friend's shoulders at the jibe. "It's just not something I thought I'd ever hear coming from your mouth."

The two of them fell silent for a minute as they digested what Steve said. "Yeah," Bucky whispered after a moment. "Times have changed, drastically too. It's not like when you and I were young, not that I remember it anyways."

It still saddened Steve greatly that much of his time with Bucky was still unremembered. All the lost time that was precious to him, and his best friend was still having trouble recalling the founding days of their friendship. It was like starting over with him again. Other times, Bucky would remember feelings and expressions like muscle memory, almost subconsciously, but he wouldn't understand it because he wouldn't remember the memories associated with it. It caused them both grief. But perhaps it was hardest on Bucky.

Taking a deep breath, Steve acknowledged Bucky's desire. "I know you want to got back to Wakanda," Steve gently approached, not sure how to word this. It might be a delicate subject to Bucky the way he was acting. "But it's not as simple as that."

"Why not?" Bucky challenged.

Thinking hard, Steve tried to word it this way, "There are a lot of politics involved in a decision like that. For one, you are a US citizen. You've not decided to give up that citizenship ever. What's more is a lot of our agreement with the foreign countries and our own regarding you means that you stay in the US. You not allowed to leave. That's part of what's keeping you free and from going into a mental institution, or becoming a ward of the state. Going to Wakanda would breach that contract."

As Steve was silent for a minute, getting his thoughts together, Bucky demanded rather impatiently, "And?"

Puffing his breath, Steve continued, "That's putting a lot of pressure on T'challa just to make concession for you. Coming back here was supposed to be a permanent thing."

"Just ask him," Bucky encouraged. "King T'challa rather likes us. I'm sure he'll be more than willing to make concessions. Besides, Wakanda was a second home, wasn't it?"

Steve nodded, "You know I want you to have consistency to heal, Bucky. Are you sure you're up for this? It would be breaking routine, and probably dealing with a whole bunch of trouble on top of that."

Bucky snorted in derision. "Stop treating me like a little kid! I'll be fine!"

"Okay!" Steve raised his hands in a giving up gesture. "Just looking out for you, Bucky. And yeah, it was a second home." At that, Steve went and gave a long look at his friend. Bucky was visibly uncomfortable at this. But what had prompted his friend to make a decision like this? Did he no longer like the United States? Though truth be told, Steve was growing tired of the corruption and problems of their home. Perhaps the peaceful, civilised nation of Wakanda that didn't deal with all the corruption was preferrable.

But still, what was the reason behind Bucky's promptings? "Bucky, is there any reason why you're asking for a move?"

Bucky seemed more uncomfortable at this question. "No." Bucky was lying. Steve could tell.

Wondering how far he could push it without turning Bucky off, Steve pursued, "If there's something going on that's making you uncomfortable, if you're being threatened, Bucky-"

" _ **BACK OFF**_!"

That's when Steve knew that there were other reasons prompting this decision. Whatever it was, Bucky was highly uncomfortable. Maybe that's why he wanted to move, in order to get away from it all. Maybe he was silently trying to flee.

Steve nodded, realising that he had no choice but to accept Bucky's answer. "All right," he conceeded. "I'll talk to King T'challa. But I can't guarantee anything. Chances are, T'challa won't allow it, especially since there are all sorts of political complications involved and Wakanda would end up entangled in it. He has his own people to care for too, you know."

Bucky looked like he didn't think that was the case. It was curious to Steve, and slightly suspicious, but Steve decided that he wasn't going to get anything out of Bucky right now. Perhaps he had called King T'challa up, asking? But no, that couldn't be the case since if he did that Steve would know.

Bucky's calls were constantly monitored, as well as who he called and communicated with. Bucky knew this and neither he nor Steve liked it. But it was part of the agreement that they had been coerced into agreeing to. But considering other things, it was the lesser of two evils. Steve was still trying to fight it, being unconstitutional. Maybe that was why Bucky wanted to move.

Regardless, if Bucky tried to call anyone or was contacted by anyone, Steve would be the first to know. Bucky's phone was linked to his phone, which informed him whenever Bucky called anyone, contacted anyone in anyway, including social media and email (Bucky didn't have any social media accounts), and when he tried to set up any accounts. Steve was always notified.

That is unless Wakanda had technology to bypass that and ensure that Steve didn't know. Steve wouldn't put it past them, especially since Wakanda was technologically advanced.

But still, why would T'challa do that? It was unlike him to do something like that without at the very least informing Steve first.

Somehting was off somewhere, that Steve knew. But Bucky walked up and went to the kitchen, the conversation seemingly over. And Steve knew better an to push Bucky, especially nowadays since his Hydra captivity. He'd been more moody since slightly recovering, and even then Steve couldn't really say that he'd healed any.

Bucky was turned away from him, unwilling to look at hm. Steve walked over and placed a hand softly on his shoulder. "Please don't close off from me!" Steve begged him.

Bucky wouldn't meet his eyes, sipping on some water. "Steve, please don't bother me right now." He put his glass down on the kitchen counter.

Steve shook his head. "I know you're holding back on me, Bucky. I worry about you. You're my friend. I love you. I care about you."

Bucky cringed, tears in his eyes. He was holding a sob back. When he turned around, Steve put his arms around him. "I can't!" Bucky cried. "I want to, but I can't!"

"Can't what?" Steve asked, his chin on the top of Bucky's head. Bucky wouldn't answer. Steve squeesed him in his embrace a little tighter to give comfort. Bucky nestled in closer, tears pouring down his face.

"Can't what?" Steve prompted again.

Bucky said nothing. But then after a while he whispered, "I'm scared, Steve. That's why I why I want to move."

Steve knew it was a partial lie, but he didn't call Bucky out on it. Bucky was having a hard time talking as it was. But there was something he did want to say.

"I'm not mad, Bucky," he whispered. "But please be honest when you talk to me." It disturbed Steve slightly that ever since Rumlow had returned Bucky, he wasn't as honest. Steve knew that something had happened and was going on.

Steve felt the tears drip onto his shirt. "But I do want to move," Bucky whispered.

"And I know it's fueled by something else," Steve murmured softly, continuing to hold Bucky.

Bucky didn't answer, but Steve was unsurprised when he didn't answer. So all Steve could do was hold his quivering form.

Steve knew that Bucky was terribly afraid, and Steve was afraid of the consequences if Bucky was indeed threatened. He didn't know what to do if Bucky wouldn't confess anything to him. Steve knew if he confined him to the house to keep him safe, then Bucky would only rebel and it would strain their relationship more than ever, pushing Bucky away from him, even though he wanted to help.

Some part of Steve couldn't help but wonder, for this very reason, if a move would indeed be in Bucky's interest. With Rumlow and Hydra unable to enter Wakanda, and no one in Wakanda willing to support Hydra, Bucky would be much safer.

Back when they had stayed in Wakanda after Bucky was unthawed and in healing, Bucky had felt much safer. He had started to let down some safeguards and was more willing to talk about what had happened and the terrible nightmare ordeal he'd been through. But eventually politics came into place.

In many ways they had been homesick, but as the corruptions became more apparent, they had changed and Wakanda became the desired home. In the end, they had returned to America with the others to keep the peace, not because they wanted to. Both had returned out of a sense of duty.

Sadly, things had gotten more restrictive for Bucky when they'd gone back to America. It had for Steve too, but nowhere near as much as Bucky. Bucky had begun closing off again, and the progress he'd made seemed to have disappeared. Steve had always noticed that when thy reached America, Bucky no longer felt safe.

'But it's more than ever needful that Bucky feel safe, especially with what has happened,' Steve thought. 'Bucky needs a chance to heal.'

Eventually, Bucky's shaking calmed down some. Though he wasn't ready to tell Steve what was bothering him and what was going on, Steve hoped that if he and T'challa could pull this off for Bucky, that Bucky would begin to feel safe enough again to open up again.

"I miss home," Bucky murmured softly.

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky curled up on the cot he was laying on. He was exhausted. Earlier that day, Bucky and Rumlow had interacted for several hours nonstop. Part of it was an interrogation by Rumlow to get the state of things on his end. It was that time of month to see Rumlow again.

Running away from Steve was hard. But the bond had forced him to do it. It would probably be another several days before he would be seeing his best friend again.

His mind went to the conversation earlier that day during which Rumlow had interrogated him.

"So, what decision did you make?" Rumlow demanded to know, arms crossed, faced away from him. They were in Rumlow's office. Bucky was pleased and rather flattered when Rumlow let him sit in the comfy chair in front of the desk instead of standing. Standard protocal for handlers dictated the Asset didn't get such nice luxuries. Brock was breaking the rules just for him.

Brock's statement wasn't unkind. In fact he was rather soft in his statement.

As Bucky considered what he was going to say, still somewhat nervous, Rumlow sent comfort through the link. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured Bucky for the umpteenth time that visit.

While Bucky was more comfortable around Brock than he was any of his previous handlers, he was still somewhat nervous of the man. He was still unused the the kind of interaction that Rumlow was willing to provide. The man wasn't as harsh with him and was more patient, especially. He was more willing to use coaxing, gentle tactics than brute or physical force.

Not even Pierce had been that patient with him. He might try to coax Bucky a bit more than the others, but when Bucky took his time, he got impatient quicker, more willing to lash out sooner. So far, Rumlow hadn't lashed out once to him, even in situations where Pierce and his other handlers most certainly would have. But he still demanded an answer when he asked a question, or prompted an answer with his feelings through the bond, and he still demanded his Asset obedient. And because of the bond, Bucky would be forced by it to answer eventually. He couldn't completely disobey.

"I'm going to Wakanda," Bucky finally announced, somewhat timidly and softly. He wriggled around uncomfortably as he admitted this statement, fearing that he would incur his handler's displeasure. Had Rumlow been testing him? Would he be angry with his decision? As he hesitated while giving his answer due to misgivings, he finally found the courage to ground out, "That's my decision. But I don't know if I can pull it off."

Rumlow turned around sent his Asset feelings of well done to Bucky. Bucky sat up, knowing that he had pleased his handler. Rumlow sent encouragement his way. "Well done," Rumlow murmured. "I shall make the necessary preparations." With that, Rumlow sat down at the head of the desk, ready to continue his interrogation. "And how did Steve respond?"

The name was sour coming out of Rumlow's mouth, but from the feelings Rumlow was purposefully projecting to Bucky, Bucky could tell that Bucky was not on the end of that sentiment. In fact, Rumlow was happy with Bucky. However Bucky couldn't help but cringe slighty at the question, knowing what he was going to have to bring up.

"Steve knows that something is wrong," Bucky decided to get it out of the way first. Rumlow didn't seem surprised, but nor did he respond one way or the other. "I'm sorry-" Bucky was quick to put out.

Rumlow held up a hand, effectively cutting Bucky off. "It's all right," Rumlow calmed Bucky with his feelings. The man sent reassurance his way. "I didn't expect him not to notice."

The Asset felt relieved when Brock continued to send him reasurances. "You're doing fine," Brock promised. He smiled a little. "Try not to be so nervous and scared, 'kay? Relax, I don't bite."

Bucky smiled a little at the saying. But he was still somewhat tense. "I don't want you to be scared," Rumlow tried to assure him further. The man leaned forward a little, feeling his Asset's feelings constantly. "Your previous handlers handled things as they deemed fit, and now I get to handle things the way I deem fit. I already promised you that I'd do my best to be gentler with you, didn't I? No punishments, unless you don't cooperate. I mean it. I don't want you scared. I want you comfortable. And I only ask that you try your best. That's all I want from you."

Bucky took a deep breath, nodding.

Now that Brock considered Bucky's comfort addressed, he decided to move on. "Is Steve going to acquiesce to you, or is he going to try to stop this?"

Shaking his head, Bucky replied, "He's wary that it can be done, but he agreed to try." After a moment's hesitation, Bucky added, "I think he thinks the move would be good for me, would... help me feel safer. He thinks that it would help me open up and talk more."

Rumlow nodded as he observed all of this. "Would it?" Rumlow asked in genuine curiosity, arching an eyebrow.

Bucky took a moment to consider this. Brock meant no harm by the comment, nor was he disappointed with Bucky. In a way, he seemed concerned for Bucky's emotional well being, not just his physical wellbeing that all handlers had always been concerned about.

"I don't know," Bucky finally breathed. "So much has changed since the last time I was there. That, and it's a completely different situation now." He looked up at Rumlow and the man nodded, accepting this information.

"And what would be most comfortable for you?"

The question through Bucky off guard. It was the last thing he expected any handler to ask him, even Rumlow.

"I don't know."

 **So that's the end of the first chaper for the second story. Thank you for following me thus far.**

 **Please read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Consequences

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Two: Consequences

(Bucky Point of View)

"And what would be most comfortable for you?"

The question through Bucky off guard. It was the last thing he expected any handler to ask him, even Rumlow.

"I don't know."

Bucky held his breath. Slowly, Rumlow nodded. Bucky could tell that Rumlow was confused from feeling what Bucky was feeling and he was trying to clarify it. The problem was, Bucky didn't know either.

Squirming around uncomfortably, Bucky replied, "I guess I was focused on other things. I feel like I'm the rope in tug of war, except there are so many sides tugging me."

Rumlow nodded again, accepting this. "Including me," he added dryly.

This caused Bucky to squirm more, his discomfort evident. As Rumlow raised an eyebrow, Bucky froze, not sure how to respond.

Suddenly, Rumlow gave a wry smile. "Guess, considering my record of bad luck, we should expect others to interfere?" Bucky chose to remain silent. Sighing, Rumlow leaned forward a little. He sent comfort to Bucky through the link. "I don't blame you," he assured him. "It's frustration I feel more than anything. But it's not towards you."

The Asset let out a sigh he didn't realise that he needed to release. Putting his hands on the desk, he let his head rest on them. "I hate this," his muffled voice came out.

Bucky heard movement and he wasn't surprised when Rumlow rested a soft hand on him, trying to be comforting. "We're both still trying to get used to the bond," Rumlow reassured him. "It's still new to both you and me, especially considering how different it is for both of us."

Bucky couldn't help the tears he felt poking through his eyes. He knew Rumoow would feel it through the bond though his face was hidden. "I don't like being restricted," Bucky whispered.

"I know that you feel that way," Rumlow murmured softly, squeesing his shoulders slightly. "But I'm giving you a lot more freedom than you've ever had, than you're supposed to have. I've broken a number of protocols for you. And I can get away with it because I'm Hydra's leader and because I can change protocols and policies. Plus, I'm letting you stay with Steve. Just keep that in mind."

Bucky nodded swiftly, keeping his head down. He got the hint from Rumlow. Be grateful.

Lifting his head up, he saw compassion on Rumlow's face. "You're depressed," Rumlow informed him. "That's what it is. That's why you feel terrible. But I suppose, given everything that's happened to you, it's to be expected." Rumlow looked away, something in his countenance. "I was there once," he quietly admitted. "I know how it goes. I know how hard it can be."

His breathing stopped temporarily as he listened to Rumlow. Biting his lip slightly, Bucky whispered, "But you have complete power over me. I'm powerless to you. You can decide amd make choices. I can't. I'm forced into everything."

Rumlow took a deep breath and looked back. "You need to learn to see the positives," Rumlow instructed him. Bucky could tell that Rumlow was still frustrated that he didn't have Bucky's true loyalty, no matter how hard he tried to convince him. There was also jealousy to Steve, not only because he had Bucky's loyalty, but because of the bond of friendship between Steve and Bucky, and the depth of it.

"I'm your handler, not him! You're **_mine_**!"

Bucky pulled back nervously. He recoiled slightly at Rumlow's anger, even though it was to Steve and not him. He didn't know what to say.

When Rumlow slammed a sudden hand down on the desk in frustration, Bucky jumped, flinching. Rumlow stood up and paced. "We're bonded," Rumlow ground out. "You're supposed to do a I say, feel as I want you to feel. Why can't you be completely mine?!"

"The bond controls me but not my true feelings," Bucky cautiously approached. "It never has. But it can create feelings to follow orders, to protect you and my commander, feelings to be subservient, feelings impossible for me to resist, feelings that enable you to control me one hundred percent. But feelings of the heart? Who I love as a friend? It can't take that from me."

When Rumlow slammed his hand down again, Bucky flinched with a soft whimper. Rumlow ignored his growing nerves and terror. "You belong to me!" Rumlow hissed. "You're **_my_** slave! **_Mine_**! You're mind is mine! You're body is mine! Why can't you get that in you're head?! I **_own_** you! Why can't you just drop you're friendship with Rogers? You're only supposed to be close to **_me_**!"

Bucky nervously bit his bottom lip, apprehensive of Rumlow's sudden temper. "You're possessive of me."

Rumlow angily looked back. "Let him go!"

But despite the bond, the bond couldn't change Bucky's feelings, and because this meant Bucky was disobeying an order, it put him in pain, causing Rumlow to hurt as well. When Rumlow hurt too much, he changed his mind, thus stopping the bond from attacking Bucky. Bucky was panting and it took them both a minute to recuperate from the trauma of it. Bucky did his best to calm down.

Bucky briefly thought back on one of his previous conversations with Rumlow about Pierce, and he began to wonder if the bond made the handler possessive and protective of him. He was beginning to think so. "Rumlow," he put in pleadingly, beggingly, but Rumlow used his feelings to make Bucky shut up, to stop his feelings, though Bucky could tell it took a toll and was hard on Rumlow to do that.

Crossbones shook his head. "Not right now," he murmured softly, his temper waning slightly. "I can't deal with that now."

Bucky didn't know what to do. Rumlow's hate for Steve had only increased since being bonded to Bucky. But he also had no choice but to be obedient. He hung his head.

As he hung his head, he noticed Rumlow look up, compassion back on his face. "I'm sorry I scared you," he murmured. "Please forgive me."

Tears spread down Bucky's face and Rumlow put a comforting hand on Bucky's shoulder, sitting next to him. "Is that all you think of me as?" Bucky asked. "As property?"

Rumlow's face twisted in horror. "No!" he exclaimed. Rubbing his face he whispered, "It's... just... **_hard_**... to share you." Rumlow sighed and relented. "What was it you wanted tell me?"

It surprised Bucky that Rumlow had changed his mind, and so he was cautious once more. He knew he would have to answer eventually, but perhaps he should delay a little...

"Hey!" Rumlow coaxed. "I won't hurt you, or be upset with you."

Gaining some confidence, Bucky mentioned, "I think the bond makes you possessive of me."

Rumlow considered this, a hand on his face, thinking hard. "I think you're right," he reluctantly agreed. "Much as I hate to admit it and would like to think it's my own feelings. I mean, it **_is_** my own feelings, but the bond generates it, perhaps."

Taking a deep breath in, Bucky added, "It must feel so natural to you."

"It does," Rumlow admitted. He gazed steadily at Bucky, in thinking mode. "Perhaps that's because you're handlers were meant to control you."

"I don't want to be controlled," Bucky moaned.

Rumlow sighed. "It is what it is."

Tears poked behind Bucky's eyes once more. "Why won't you change things?!" Bucky begged. "You have the power to!"

"I don't," Rumlow murmured. "I know it's hard for you to accept this, but Hydra has the greater good of the world in mind. I have to do what's right for the greater good, even if that means controlling you."

Bucky looked away in grief. "Hydra's doing what's right," Rumlow continued despite Bucky's body language. "I believe in Hydra."

Bucky knew that Rumlow really did believe every word he said. And it bothered Bucky that Rumlow was so loyal to Hydra's cause, even at his expense.

Rumlow sighed. Tapping his com, he said into the earpiece, "Escort the Asset to the infirmiry. I'm done with him."

And that was how Bucky ended up curled up on his cot in a secure, guarded, enclosed space in the infirmary so that he could get some rest for the day. He was also behind closed locked doors to prevent him running away, not that he could if he wanted to. The bond prevented it. Rumlow didn't want him to run away.

He was still upset and probably would be for some time. He also had time to mull over Rumlow's staunch beliefs.

That Bucky was stuck in this position because of the bond, he knew. Rumlow would not relent and could not be convinced otherwise. In fact, Rumlow kept trying to convince Bucky to join Hydra willingly.

Being at a disadvantage was hard for Bucky. Bucky was in forced servitude and forced subservience to Rumlow. But at least Rumlow was kinder to him than his other handlers.

That didn't mean Bucky wasn't mad, because he was. He was mad at his situation because it was too hard to be mad at Rumlow. And he was also very sad.

With a sigh, Bucky tried to fall asleep.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow sat down, turning over a blue, glowing gemstone in his hand. It was like a crystal and was palm sized. It had been a gift from Pierce, the last gift from Pierce.

This gemstone had been handed down from leader to leader, from handler to handler. They still didn't know much about it other than it and the tesseract were related somehow. It was peculiar, never exhibiting the same traits that the tesseract did. In fact, Johann had originally found it. He knew it was legendary and thought it contained powers, but was disappointed when he couldn't get it to do anything. So he pusued the tesseract instead, finding it.

And for the most part, it was useless, unless one had an infinity stone on hand, that is. It had a way of modifying the infinity stones, making them more powerful, or altering it's powers, making an infinity stone better, near as far as they could tell. But by itself, this unusual crystal was useless, for the most part anyways.

And yet it had created the very first bond between the Asset and his very first handler, forcing the Asset to become subservient to his new handler. It was a life bond. And it's powers rested inside the Asset. So it held power, intense power.

The problem was, no leader was entirely sure what it's powers were and what it's powers contained. It was a very powerful gem that only the leaders of Hydra ever knew about.

Suddenly there was a knock on his office door and Rumlow hastily shoved the gemstone in the drawer of his desk and out of sight. Rumlow was vaguely aware in the corner of his mind through the bond that Bucky had just fallen asleep. The Asset was slowly relaxing.

"Come in," Rumlow called out, sitting back in his chair.

A man came in in a tactile suit and stood at attention. "Sir," he acknowledged.

Rumlow appreciated the man's professional demeanor and military haircut. "Watson," he acknowledged the man back.

The man straightened further. "The Soldier gave us no problems." A corner of his mouth twitched as he replied, "He was put to bed with no issues. Did all his hygene without complaints. But I'm pretty sure you know that already."

Rumlow nodded. Bucky wasn't always cooperative with Rumlow's crew when it came to lights out. Sometimes he refused to brush his teeth and comb his hair. He refused to try to sleep. It was little rebellions like these that made it to where Rumlow had to step in. "But it's good to keep the protocol anyways. Consistency, structure, for his sake." In fact, the only reason Rumlow could think of for Bucky to be so passive this time around was because he was exhausted.

After this, the man seemed to hesitate. "Go on, Watson," Rumlow encouraged, leaning back into his seat further.

"Sir," the man curiously asked. "How long will we maintain the Soldier this time?"

Rumlow shrugged. "A few days, at least. It depends on a number of factors, primarily on the Asset. His cooperation, for one. But if all goes well, no more than five days."

"So short?" the man questioned.

"I need him back there," Rumlow replied. "We're getting ready to instigate things. But we'll keep him longer next time, make up the lost time."

Watson nodded, saluting, then turning to leave. Rumlow considered quickly, then decided, "Watson?"

The man turned back to him. "Yes?"

Quickly figuring out how to word things and aware of his Soldier's current mood, Rumlow ordered, "Keep a special eye on the Soldier for potential problems. He may have gone quietly with you, but he was agitated earlier. When he gets upset he tends not to think straight. He might cause some problems, whether intentionlly, or unintentionally."

Raising an eyebrow, the man inquired, "And if he does?"

"Then try to coax him," Rumlow instructed, doing his best to maintain a calm, authoritive demeanor like he should be as leader. "And call for me immediately, no delays." Rumlow may have known something was wrong, like Pierce, because of the Asset's emotions, but that didn't mean he had a context for the situation.

Watson nodded and exited the room.

Rumlow sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He didn't know what to do about Bucky. Bucky didn't want to willfully join Hydra, no matter how much Rumlow tried to persuade him. And things would be significantly easier if Bucky was willing and willing to join Hydra. But Bucky was staunch in his beliefs. And in Rumlow's opinion, Bucky was too attached to Steve.

The sense of jealousy covered Rumlow again. Rumlow really wanted to permanently seperate Bucky from Steve. But he also knew that Bucky needed Steve, at least right now, so he couldn't. That didn't mean that didn't upset Rumlow and make him jealous of Steve.

And so, Rumlow was forced to allow Bucky to stay with Steve, except for when he needed him. Which was fine. It worked out for Rumlow's plans anyways. And it got Rumlow an operative amongst the Avengers, even if it was an unwilling operative. An operative was an operative. Things worked out in the end.

But Bucky did have his small rebellions, whether it was refusing to go to bed, or purposely being abnoxious and annoying the personnel. While it was true that Rumlow could merely order Bucky, force him into submission, Rumlow chose to use patient, coaxing efforts to help shape Bucky's behavior, after all, Bucky was gaining confidence with him and he didn't want to ruin that. He didn't want Bucky afraid of him. And indeed it was working, as the number of rebellions had gone down even though it was still there.

Rumlow was hopeful that Bucky would start to grow more comfortable around him. Indeed, Bucky wasn't as nervous of him, though he was still fairly nervous. The rebellions were a sign of that. But they were growing closer. He was hopeful for Bucky's trust soon. It would make everything much easier.

But he also did truly care about Bucky. However he knew that Hydra was his priority, as was his preference. One couldn't put the needs or wants of one person, let alone an asset and slave, over the needs and wants of Hydra. That was what Bucky didn't understand and Bucky desperately needed to learn his place. Rumlow didn't want to end up having to do something harsh to him to make him understand. But Rumlow was hopeful that Bucky would understand and accept it soon.

Gentleness with the Soldier seemed the way to go about it. The Soldier seemed to respond better to gentleness and patience. Rumlow's hard work was going to pay off soon.

With a sigh, Rumlow got the gemstone and placed it carefully concealed in a box in the wall. When it was shut, there was no indication that it was even there.

It was time to call lights out for the day.

(The next day)

Bucky was back to being his usual refusing self that day. Rumlow had been called in because Bucky refused to shower and do his hygene in preparation to go to bed. Rumlow sighed as he walked down to the infirmary. At least Bucky was getting quicker at being obedient when he stepped in. So there was improvement there.

As Rumlow stepped in, he immediately noticed the pout on Bucky's face. The guards were surrounding him, weapons out but not pointed at him in case Bucky became aggressive. Rumlow could tell that Bucky had no such intentions now.

Feeling his Asset's feelings, Rumlow knew something was upsetting Bucky. He sighed and waved his personnel out.

The room was small, only a cot. There was no bathroom inside the locked door. Bucky had to be taken to the bathroon shower house on the other side of the infirmary. It was a precautionary measure to keep the Asset in line.

Bucky was still in his Hydra sweatshirt and Hydra sweatpants provided for him, and he'd thrown his plain green pajamas on the floor. His green boxers had been launched clear to the other side of the room.

The door sounded shut, locked as standard protocol dictated. Rumlow folded his arms. Bucky was starting to get nervous now that Rumlow had been brought in. "What is it this time?" Rumlow asked patiently, calmly.

Barnes shifted in agitation. His feet with only socks on them as they didn't allow him to wear shoes or boots of any kind in the facility as a safety procotion, scrubbed the floor. "I don't want to go to sleep," Bucky whispered softly.

Rumlow knew that wasn't everything. "Why not?" he pushed more, maintaing his patience. It was like this every night.

Tears poked behind Bucky's eyes. "I want to go home!" he complained.

Nodding in understanding, Rumlow emphasized firmly, "You **_are_** home. **_Hydra_** is your home." His eyes softened some, though, as understanding came in his gaze. "But I know you miss Steve. You will see him again, I promise," Rumlow reassured Bucky. "But you need to cooperate. You need to be obedient. How soon you see Steve will depend on you and how obedient you are. You end up staying longer than I plan for each time because you keep causing trouble." Bucky looked up in surprise at this. Rumlow had never told him this before.

Smiling softly, Rumlow encouraged, "I want to get you sooner to Steve too, you know. But to do that, I need your cooperation."

Bucky sighed, relaxing slightly. There, Rumlow could see it, the slight change in his demeanor. Bucky was relenting, getting ready to cooperate. And who knows, maybe he'd start cooperating more and causing less trouble now that he knew it would get him to Steve faster. Though Rumlow didn't like Steve, he knew Bucky needed Steve, and he had to keep Bucky's health in mind. But Rumlow was hopeful that eventually Bucky wouldn't need Steve anymore or wouldn't want him. But perhaps that was fantasy.

"Fine," Bucky grumbled, picking up his pajamas and underwear. Rumlow knew then that he wouldn't cause any more problems that day. Walking behind Rumlow, Rumlow knocked on the door and the personel unlocked it. Rumlow nodded as he and Bucky stepped out. Rumlow's last look at Bucky was as they walked him to the showers. Bucky glanced back briefly, nervously, and Rumlow nodded at him, sending encouragement through the link.

Rumlow sighed and headed back to his room.

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky had been woken up early by the personnel. He was nervous, causing his body temperature to drop. He wrapped the blankets around him more, trying to get warm.

There were guards in his room, well, the room they had permitted him to stay in. Their weapons weren't out, but at the same time they were watching him in caution.

Barnes wriggled his toes under the sheets, trying to get circulation flowing to warm them up. Upon hearing footsteps, he glanced nervously at the door.

In walked a bunch of white lab coats. There was one elderly gentleman with only white hair on the sides of his head. He was thin and frail looking, but Bucky could tell he was strong for a regular human. His white skin had wrinkles on it. As Bucky glanced at the other white lab coats he saw that they were significantly younger.

While the young men had neutral faces, though Bucky could tell they were slightly scared of him, the older gentleman was calm. He walked up to Bucky with a kind smile. "I'll need to take your vitals so that we can get started." His statement ensured this was not an option, whatever was about to happen, despite how kindly he'd said it.

Bucky gulped nervously. He felt Rumlow send comfort through the bond. Sending back desperation for his presence, Bucky received back feelings that Rumlow would be here soon. That's when Bucky knew his handler hadn't arrived yet. He wasn't even on base, so to speak.

The man gently lifted the blankets, and Bucky shivered as a wave of cold reached him. As the doctor reached for his wrist, Bucky cringed back before finally relenting and allowing the man to do his job. The man replaced the blanket, keeping him warm underneath.

After taking his pulse, the man pulled out his stethoscope. He took his blood pressure and his temperature. The doctor nodded to him when done, standing up.

"What are you going to do with me?" Bucky asked, but the ignored him, the older doctor writing down the statistics. "What's going to happen?" Bucky called out again. Once again, they ignored him.

The older doctor smiled kindly at him. "Time to go."

Panic gripped Bucky, and when they saw he wouldn't move, the guards forced him to stand up. He was frog marched out of his room, down the twisting corridoors, and into a large, high roofed, hospital lab. Complete with a medical bed that had restraints on it, and a medical table with metal restraints on it.

Too scared to resist because of the weapons now pointed at him, Bucky had no choice but to walk into the lab. The lab doors sealed shut and locked behind them.

Bucky was terrified. No explanation was given to him as to what was about to happen.

Rummaging in one of the cabinets, the elderly doctor held out a short sleeved scrub shirt, long pant scrubs and white boxers to Bucky. Motioning to a curtained off area on all four sides to Bucky, he instructed, "Take all of your clothing off and put these on," in a kind tone.

When Bucky refused to move, frozen in fear as he saw the table and bed with restraints on it, one of the guards lightly tapped him on the back with his gun, indicating that they meant business.

Bucky felt himself starting to cry, and he felt nothing from Rumlow. He shakily took the hospital outfit they gave him and obeyed, disappearing behind the curtains and changing, leaving his pajamas and green boxers on the floor. He came out from behind the curtain, sobbing, wrapping his arms around himself in a desperation to cope. Rumlow never sent comfort, no matter how much begging Bucky sent through the link. He didn't understand why this was happening.

As he came out, tear streaked with tears still slipping down his face, he saw no compassion from anyone. He sent pleading eyes around, but no one was moved with sympathy towards him. But the elderly doctor maintained his kind demeanor and tone towards him.

Smiling kindly, the elderly doctor motioned to the hospital bed and instructed, "Go ahead and lay down and the tie down crew will take care of you." Apparently he must have meant the guards for Bucky didn't see any additional crew around.

Bucky shook his head, knowing they couldn't kill him. That didn't mean that some didn't have very powerful tranquilizing darts in their guns as a way to control him and drug him if needed. "No," he whispered softly.

Bucky flinched as the guards immediately brought their guns up, pointed at him and cocked. The elderly man had his eyebrows raised. "No?" he questioned the Soldier. "Are you going to resist today?"

"I just want to know what's going on," Bucky demanded nervously, glancing at the guns. "I want to know what you're doing to me."

The elderly doctor sighed. "Just lay down," he coaxed softly. "It will make everything much easier."

Bucky shook his head. "No."

At this moment, Bucky's gut clenched as he felt Rumlow near, and he flinched as the door opened, revealing Rumlow. Bucky gulped as he saw Rumlow dressed in scrubs. That could only mean one thing, Rumlow was going to be knocked for this. If Rumlow was going to be knocked out for this that meant he had his own hospital staff to tend to him. And that meant that whatever they were going to do to Bucky was going to be painful. Bucky could only hope that that meant they would knock him out and he wouldn't feel anything.

The door shut, locking the lab once again. Rumlow came and stood right in front of Bucky, motioning his workers away. He folded his arms.

Bucky squirmed nervously. He could feel Rumlow's patience waning. "Soldier," the man addressed him firmly. "What is it this time?"

Bucky gulped and glanced in fear at the workers. "What's going to happen to me?" Bucky begged.

Compassion was on Rumlow's face now. "Not needful to know," he murmured softly. Bucky's gut clenched further, and Rumlow lightly rested a hand on his flesh shoulder. "You won't feel anything," Rumlow reassured him. "You'll be knocked out for it, I promise."

Motioning to the bed, Rumlow gave an order through the bond. "Obey your doctor. Get on the bed." Bucky obeyed, in shock at first. Rumlow was usually more patient with him, and would coax him until Bucky obeyed. He wasn't usually this forceful. But suddenly a wave of emotions and despair hit him as he walked over to the bed in forced obedience. Bucky started crying openly and he reached the bed, laying down.

Compassion was on Rumlow's face and he sent compassion through the bond. "It's going to take all day," Rumlow at least gave in explanation. "We've got to get started immediately. We're already late getting started."

Bucky continued crying and sobbing openly, and the guards came over, fastening the restraints on the wrists and ankles of Bucky. The tears flowed freely down and Rumlow continued sending him compassion, giving another compassionate look, before heading out the door to be sedated while Bucky went through whatever he was going to go through. Bucky continued crying and sobbing loudly from the trauma of it all. They wouldn't even tell him what they were going to do to him.

Doing his vitals again, Bucky meant to prompt Rumlow for something through the link but was unable to as he felt a dead end. The bond was still there, as usual, but it was met by a wall of sleepiness eminating from his handler. They'd just put Brock asleep. He was now on his own.

"What's going to happen?" Bucky begged once again, still crying, sobbing.

"No need to know," the elderly doctor waved him off with his hands.

"What's going to happen?" Bucky begged more in desperation, crying harder.

The elderly doctor sighed, now exasperated. "Your handler authorized it and signed off on it. That's all you need to know."

"Please," Bucky begged as the doctors surrounded him. "Why doesn't my handler want to tell me what's going on?"

The elderly doctor sighed. "You'll know when the time is right. He doesn't want you distracted."

With that the younger doctors brought a tray over with two IVs in it. They used alcohol wipes and wiped the spot above his wrist off, and a spot on his ankle. An IV was then inserted in his wrist and ankle, Bucky sobbing the whole time.

"Relax," the elderly man soothed him as they prepped both IV bags. When both IVs were set up and trickling into his veins, Bucky felt colder.

A calm feeling entered Bucky and his crying stopped. He felt sleepy. His eyes were hazy and unfocused.

Bucky was vaguely aware as they slipped a bite guard into his mouth. Then, with a final injection into an IV port, a specially developed sedative that was safer and stronger swept into him, carrying Bucky into sleep.

(Sometime later)

Bucky was aware as someone rubbed circles into his wrist. His eyes were still closed, his mind hazy, and he moaned.

"Relax," a familiar voice from the distance urged him. "It's a stronger sedative than you've ever had before. It had to be to knock you out and keep you out, to keep you out of pain. It may take some time to wake up from."

Bucky was still sleepy and he moaned again. He tried to shift his body but found that he was still to heavy.

"Relax," his handler whispered again, soothingly. He smoothed his hair down and away from his face. "Go to sleep," Rumlow urged. The man sent comfort and gentleness through the link. "I'll stay with you until you wake up again."

Bucky didn't really want to sleep, but suddenly a wave of sleepiness hit him and he felt himself relaxing once more.

When Bucky felt his senses come back to him, he felt someone reach out and rub circles in his wrists again. His senses weren't as heavy, but were still pretty heavy. He moaned as he tried to get confortable and suddenly felt cold. The person let go of his wrist and Bucky felt the fallen blanket being placed back on him once more.

He tried to open his eyes once more. "Relax," he heard Rumlow encourage. "If you need to sleep more, you should."

But Bucky didn't want to sleep, and he forced himself back towards consciousness. Opening his heavy eyes, he saw a fuzzy outline of Rumlow, who was back to rubbing soothing circles in his wrist. "What time is it?" Bucky slurred his words but he knew Rumlow understood him through the feelings of the bond.

"11:52 PM," Rumlow murmured softly. "You originally woke up at 10:59 PM."

Bucky shook his head trying to clear it. They'd woken him at three AM and had taken him to the lab at four AM.

"That's a long time," Bucky slurred.

Rumlow nodded in agreement. "It is," he agreed. Concern for him was in Rumlow's face.

Suddenly, tears worked their way down Bucky's face as his head cleared and he remembered. He sobbed, and Rumlow started running his hand through his hair, sending soothing feelings through the bond. "Hey," he murmured softly.

"What happened to me?" Bucky begged. Rumlow remained quiet, continuing to send the soothing feelings. "What happened?" Bucky begged again.

"Shhh," Rumlow urged. "It was necessary, but it's going to be all right." Bucky continued to sob.

At insistance through the bond, Bucky gave into the drowsy feeling and fell asleep again.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow continued to run his hand through Bucky's hair until Bucky fell asleep. He gazed at Barnes sadly, well aware of how difficult this was for him. But he stood by his decision.

At a knock from the door, Rumlow softly commanded, "Come in."

The door opened revealing the same elderly doctor from earlier that Bucky was refusing to obey. "Munroe," Rumlow greeted him.

"Sir," Munroe answered. When his eyes fell on Bucky he exclaimed, "Ah! I see he's sleeping again. I heard the two of you talking earlier, and I didn't want to interrupt anything."

"Much appreciated," Rumlow grunted. "Were it not that his senses are duller from the drugs, I would have been alerted to your presence."

Munroe nodded before his face assumed an amused expresion. "He's a handful that you've got there."

Rumlow smiled fondly down at the sleeping Bucky who was undisturbed in his sleep, continuing to soothe Bucky by running his hand through his hair in a soft, continuous, smooth motion. "That he is," Rumlow agreed. Bucky's breathing was now even.

Though he had had a tough day, Rumlow could tell that Bucky was desperate for comfort from his handler. Before the procedures, Bucky had been desperately begging for comfort from his handler. It was so hard for Rumlow that he'd had to try to ignore him, and even then he couldn't do it completely. So he didn't respond.

Rumlow composed himself and looked up at Munroe. "The results?" he asked, his voice nearly breaking.

Munroe sighed. "It's as we'd feared. Someone did indeed get ahold of him, thus explaining your injuries, sir. Due to his apparently enhanced self healing capabilities, now equal to that of Steve Rogers, we had a hard time cutting him open. They did indeed insert something into him."

Rumlow's gut clenched. Whatever this was, it was too deep to be a tracking device. "Did you get it out?" he demaned, fist clenched that someone had harmed his Asset.

Munroe shook his head. "The surgery they had him under was complicated, and we don't have the equipment at this facility."

"Hydra!" Rumlow exclaimed in surprise, picking up that only Hydra would have had the technology to do this. They had a traitor in their midst, and Rumlow was willing to bet that this traitor was in the next closest Hydra facility. What made Rumlow mad, though, was not only that they had hurt his Soldier, whom he was fond of, but they'd comprimised his operational integrity at the same time. That put Hydra's plans on hold.

But as he thought on it, Rumlow realised that he only really had one true enemy, a mastermind, from insides Hydra's circles, or former Hydra, rather. Rumlow gripped his fist tighter. "Striker!" he hissed.

A nod was recieved from his comrad. "Most likely."

"Then why doesn't he remember?" Rumlow demanded. He took his other hand out of Bucky's hair. The new amount of sedative Rumlow had given Bucky, pre measured out by his medical staff at his request, would ensure that Barnes remained asleep. He wouldn't hear anything.

However, despite being sedated, Rumlow didn't want a potentially tight grip to disturb his rest or the quality of it. Bucky was too stressed and needed the relaxation of sleep, despite being healed up already. But Rumlow was still healing, the bandages still around him.

At his question, Munroe sighed. "Describing what you told me, it looks like someone tranquilized him. It's not surprising with the stress he's under that he doesn't remember for psychological reasons. And they must have kept him out for it. They could also have given him drugs to interfere with memory. He would have carried on to us without recalling anything."

"An opportune moment they picked," Rumlow growled. "But still, why do this when they would have known that we would have noticed?"

"I don't know," Munroe mused.

Rumlow nodded firmly. "I want an investigation now that we have evidence," Rumlow demanded. "But I want it done discreetly. I don't want the traitor or traitors to know that we're onto them; I don't even want them to know that there's an investigation going on. I don't want the general Hydra population to know."

"Yes sir," Munroe ackknowledged. "I'll let Gordon know."

"Good," Rumlow was firm.

After this, Munroe was hesitant. "Yes?" Rumlow raised an eyebrow.

"Sir," Munroe asked with an edge of concern. "Are you going to let the Asset know?"

Rumlow stood by his previous decision. "No," he replied, looking down at Bucky with concern. "He can't handle it. And it would only disrupt his performance. As for right now, we don't have the time to help him cope. But probably later, yes, when the time is right. Or maybe never."

With a sigh, Rumlow looked up. "Do you know what they put into him?"

Munroe pursed his lips. "No."

Rumlow looked away in anger. "Inform Gordon," he ordered.

"Yes sir."

(Bucky Point of View)

Rumlow was still there when Bucky woke up for good this time with a gasp. He had a grim look on his face as he studied the Asset. The man was also still in pain, Bucky could tell.

Bucky's lip trembled as he looked at Rumlow. Soft tears spread down his cheeks, and he sobbed silently.

Rumlow's eyes softened when he saw Barnes. Compassion was on his face. "Why don't you want to tell me what happened?" Bucky begged.

He was watched silently. "Because I don't think you can handle it," Rumlow finally confessed to him. Bucky was just about to ask him what he meant when suddenly Rumlow sat up straight and looked Barnes squarely in the eyes, serious. "Barnes, I've got to ask you, what do you remember about coming to visit us?"

A confused expression clouded Bucky and as he tried to think back on it, the details were cloudy. "I left Steve," Bucky frowned and that was all he could say. Now that he thought on it, time seemed to be missing for some reason. He looked up at Rumlow, wanting answers. "Why?" he demanded.

Rumlow shook his head. "Never mind."

Bucky's lip trembled. "Please!"

Rumlow sighed and looked at Bucky. "No," was his gentle warning.

Disappointment filled Bucky and as the Soldier looked away in despair, Rumlow rested a soft hand on his shoulder. "I don't mean harm by it," the man comforted him. "Please be reassured, Bucky, that I have your best interest at heart when I do these things. I really had no choice but to do this procedure. I had to make sure you were safe, that you were all right."

Looking up, Bucky realised that there was some sort of link between the procedure and the missing memories he appeared to be having. "From whom?!" Bucky inquired softly.

Rumlow seemed hesitant at first, careful. He studied Bucky carefully as if wondering if he should give the answers. "Striker," the man finally admitted. Rumlow looked away again.

Bucky bit his lip. Striker was bad news, and the truth was Bucky was terrified of him. He remembered how the man had seemed so eager to hurt him, and had even gone as far as to order a painful experiment on him. Releasing his lip, he looked up at Rumlow. "You don't want to know, " Rumlow told him.

Sighing, Bucky supposed that he could accept this for now. He had no doubt that Rumlow had additional knowledge on top of the vague realities that Rumlow had mentioned. And while he desperately wanted to know, Bucky knew that he wouldn't get anything out of Rumlow right now. But, perhaps, when Rumlow was ready, he would tell him.

Bucky felt concern for Rumlow. "Are you okay?" he asked, well aware that Crossbomes was in pain.

Rumlow sat up, but he didn't look at Bucky. "I'm fine," the man murmured. "Worry about yourself." Sighing, the man stood up and went to the door. He turned back to Bucky. "I'll let you stay here a little longer to recover emotionally since you're all healed. But then you're heading back."

Excitment ran through Bucky. He was going to see Steve again. He could tell from Rumlow's feelings and emotions that Rumlow was annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man muttered, in a bad mood now. Bucky bit his lip slightly. "I know you're excited."

"Steve didn't do anything to you," he pointed out.

Rumlow snorted in derision. "He dropped a building on me, remember?"

After thinking briefly on what to say next, Buck replied, "You betrayed him. And technically he wasn't **_aiming_** to collapse a building on you. He was merely trying to disable the helecarriers. It was merely a by product of war. You happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't intentional."

Rumlow rolled his eyes. "If he hadn't have interfered it wouldn't have happened."

Bucky tilted his head. "Then why don't you blame the Black Widow as well? She was just as much involved."

"And Steve led them."

Bucky sighed. They were never going to see eye to eye on this. "You just hate him because he's close to me. You're jealous."

Rumlow clenched his fists and then relaxed him. But his voice and tone were still stiff as he replied, "You _**do**_ belong to _**me**_ , remember?"

Bucky flinched. He didn't like being reminded of his enslavement.

Sighing, Rumlow commanded, "Get some rest."

Rumlow left.

(Steve Point of View)

Steve stared at Bucky across the dining room table. Both were staring silently at each other, calmly.

With a sigh, Steve asked, "Where were you?"

Bucky shrugged. "Away."

He seemed pretty calm, but Steve still wasn't sure. "That's a long time to be away, especially when you're not supposed to be away."

Bucky shrugged again. "I needed a break."

Steve considered for a moment. Bucky was hiding something, though why, he didn't know. "Maybe I should get Wanda involved," he threatened.

His best friend stiffened. "No!"

Steve smiled slightly. "Care to elaborate?" Bucky didn't seem to know how to answer him.

Sighing, Steve realised some drastic measures were needed. He couldn't loose Bucky like that again. And when Bucky realised that Steve was dead serious on getting Wanda involved, his eyes lit up in horror. "Please no!" Bucky begged.

With a puff of air, Steve considered. "Maybe it won't matter. I've contacted King T'Challa. He managed to pull some politics and he's still pulling politics. Apparently, he doesn't mind us back. We're scheduled to move soon, if all goes well."

"He pulled it off?" Bucky asked wearily, almost in surprise.

Steve nodded. He was still pretty amazed himself. "After some careful arguments, and some threats, I daresay, including to remove vibranium, he convinced them that it would be safer for you and I, particularily you, to be back in Wakanda. Apparently, since taking refuge in Wakanda, we're citizens of their nation, so they have a right to us. And who are others to argue that that's not the case since they don't know Wakanda's mysterious laws?"

The fact that T'Challa had pulled it off still amazed Steve. Steve was surprised that he could do it, himself. He had had no no idea that T'Challa was capable of such political fests. Been then again, maybe Steve should stop underestimating the young king and what he is capable of.

Bucky seemed surprised and as if he didn't quite know how to take this new information. "Oh." But the truth was, neither did Steve. He hadn't realised that he, Bucky, and the others that had taken refuge in Wakanda were now citizens of that nation.

Awkwardness greeted them. "So," Bucky broke the silence. "When are we leaving?" Barnes looked up at him with hopeful, pleading eyes.

Truth be told, Steve wasn't sure he wanted to tell Bucky. Something was off. Bucky must have realised that, for he looked disappointed. Sadness was on Steve. "Bucky, I'm very concerned about you."

Bucky looked away. "I know."

"I care about you a lot," Steve pressed on. "I only want you to be happy and free."

Clenching his fists, Bucky looked up at Steve. "Free? Free, Stevie? Them why do I feel caged all the time?! I can't go anywhere without permission. And then I have to have somebody go with me. I'm to always be _**watched**_. I have a _**guardian**_. How can that be free?"

Steve looked away with a sigh. He could understand Bucky's point of view. "It wasn't my rule," Steve whispered. But as he thought on things, maybe the move to Wakanda would be good for the both of them. Bucky felt so choked as it was. "Maybe," Steve voiced. "By going to Wakanda you'll be able to have more freedom like you want. And since Wakanda's a fairly safe place, I won't have to worry about you." Steve smiled some.

But Bucky snorted in derision. "Knowing the Feds, as part of negotiating my release, they'll put some stipulations on me."

"Maybe not," Steve chimed in. "T'Challa has a lot of power."

"But we're here, and he's... there..."

"Maybe," Steve whispered. He smiled. "But try to think on the bright side. And try to have hope."

"I can't," Bucky replied with a down cast gaze.

Steve's heart dropped when he saw this. "Bucky, I will make things better," he encouraged.

"You can't," Bucky whispered, head down.

Putting his hand on Bucky's shoulder, he encouraged, "Have a bit of faith, Bucky. I hate seeing you so down and depressed. It hurts me."

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered.

Steve squeesed his shoulder softly. "Not your fault."

Steve could tell at this point that Bucky was exhausted. There was no way that they were going to be able to solve anything more right now. Sighing, he got up from the table, indicating that the conversation was over, for now, anyways.

Bucky followed suit, getting up and leaving. The tell tale sign of his bedroom door closing was heard.

Steve sighed.

(Bucky Point of View)

Though healed, Bucky was still in a lot of pain from whatever procedures he had been put through, and his heart ached from the coercion of it. Tears slipped down Barnes' face, and a soft, brief sob escaped Bucky.

He hated lying to Steve. He really did. But he had no choice in the matter. Steve couldn't know that he had been spending time with Rumlow.

A soft sigh escaped. Feelings of comfort were being sent through the link to him. It was too much to handle.

"Why?" Bucky whispered. "Why do you have to do this to me?" More comfort from Rumlow came.

His mind moved to Wakanda. T'Challa had apparently made a deal to return them to Wakanda, but they had yet to see any of the stipulations that the US government had yet to impose. That left a wide margin of what they could say and demand of Bucky. Barnes also wasn't sure how much bargaining power T'Challa had left. Hopefully, T'Challa could still come out on top.

Other concerns raged in his mind. Bucky was no doubt going to be thoroughly interviewed by T'Challa's doctors about his time being kidnapped. Bucky had no idea how he was going to respond. He wasn't the greatest liar. Hydra had made sure he wasn't so that they could control him.

"What do I do?" Bucky moaned in a whisper. He felt like Rumlow expected too much from him, and yet Rumlow had the greatest confidence that he could pull it iff.

Rumlow had said that he wanted to avoid trouble for now, but Bucky knew it wad a temporary thing. Chances are, after he removed to Wakanda and was out of the way, Rumlow was going to instigate some things and manipulate it to Hydra's favor. He was just putting his chess pieces on the board and positioning them, including Bucky.

Bucky hated being a pawn, and yet he was used to it. It was part of his role in being his handler's slave. Bucky knew that Hydra wanted to control every aspect of everyone's life, right down to what they wore, essentially making them slaves. And Bucky hated that he was being forced to go along with this, while enslaved. He couldn't even cry out for help.

But what was Rumlow trying to do? What was Rumlow trying to accomplish?

Enslavement was hard on Bucky. He hated slavery. It only benefited his owners. He hated not having his life in his hands. Being a slave was an emotionally challenging trial.

Despite this, Bucky had hope that his owner would grow more compassionate. He had already begun to see changes in Rumlow. Rumlow had a fondness for him that was only growing. And Bucky had more freedom than he'd ever before had in Hydra, despite being enslaved.

This made Bucky confused as to what he felt about Rumlow. Despite being a slave, Bucky was treated kinder than he'd ever before been treated by Hydra. And though he somewhat despised and hated Runlow for enslaving him, he was also grateful and loved him as a friend because Rumlow was more considerate of him. They were growing closer and Bucky couldn't help but begin to trust him. It was also a normal part of the bond. He'd had it with Pierce. The bond created feelings of trust.

And yet, slavery had it's dynamics in the end. Hydra still considered him property and the lowest of the social classes, or rather being the most bottom and having no social class whatsoever. He was no more than an animal and cattle, in their view. Granted, he was viewed as a very precious cattle. And Bucky still had no idea what Rumlow thought of him.

Rumlow claimed that he didn't view Bucky as property. But Bucky also knew that Rumlow still considered him a slave in the end. And Rumlow at the very least considered Bucky of the lowest social class, if not, lower, having no class at all. He wasn't sure which it was.

This confused Bucky. If Bucky was seen as lowly by Brock, how could Brock not see Bucky as property? He didn't understand the man's reasonings.

Then there was the fact that Brock had said that he considered Bucky family. Hydra was supposed to be Bucky's family, guide, and mentor, like he was also a little kid to them and they were the patronizing elder siblings. And though Bucky hated to admit it, he did consider Hydra his second family. They **_had_** saved his life, something that Steve had failed to do the second time, despite the countless times he had saved Steve without count. Surely that had to count for something?

And Bucky most certainly did consider Brock his family. He'd always considered his handers his family. His handlers took care of him. That's what family does, right? They fed him and clothed him and made sure he always had the necessities of life. He'd had to figure out how to obtain the necessities on his onw when he went AWOL from Hydra after project Insight.

"Rumlow lets me stay with Steve," Bucky reminded himself. "And in return, I have to obey him." After all, that was how the bond worked. He wasn't happy about it, but that was the way things were. Maybe Rumlow was right. Maybe they couldn't change things and things were the way they were. Maybe it was Bucky's fate to be a slave forever.

A sense of hopelessness gripped Bucky. Tears brimmed his eyes and he curled in on himself, on his bed, weeping.

At that moment, Steve chose to come up. "Bucky?" he knocked on the door. Bucky did his best to stop crying. When he didn't respond, Steve cracked the door open slightly. "Bucky, I- oh-"

He must have seen Bucky's body posture, for he softly walked and sat on the edge of his bed. There was a long silence between them, then, "Bucky, if you don't feel up to eating, I understand."

For a while, Bucky couldn't say anything back. "I don't think I can, either," he finally replied.

Steve was silent for a minute. Finally, "I just barely got a text from the Wakandan government. You've been cleared to go. T'Challa worked out a deal with the US, well, more liked forced them. No added stipulations. You're free to go between the US and Wakanda as you please, provided it's no extra stops and is only those two countries. No one can stop you, whenever you want to go to and fro."

Bucky froze. T'Challa had actually pulled it off. For a moment, his problems were forgotten. Bucky hadn't realised how powerful a nation Wakanda was, probably because of technological advancements, vibranium, and other things.

Turning slowly, Bucky asked, "When do we leave?"

Steve smiled. "Pack your bags. You'll have your final appointment with the therapist in the morning and then we have a long flight to Wakanda."

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow was in Europe, waiting to meet with one of the heads of Hydra. He knew his Soldier was so excited about something that he had been able to sleep. Rumlow suspected that he knew what it was.

He was currently in a secluded park under the trees, walking around. It was green, and Rumlow loved the feeling of fresh air. He was nearby one of the buildings that his subordinate, the head of one of his factions of Hydra were located. But Rumlow had needed to walk around, especially with the aches of after surgery, so his personnel had secured the perimeter for him.

Suddenly, one of his personnel, a young man, ran up to him. "Sir!" the man who was basically still a kid, was gasping for air. He bent over and put his hands on his knees.

"Yes?" Rumlow turned around to address him.

His lackey took a minute to compose himself before announcing, "One of our spies has reported in. The Soldier has been cleared to go to Wakanda, no stipulations. In fact they are free to go back and forth as they will."

Rumlow knew the other person was Steve, who was Bucky's guardian and had to go with him wherever he went. "Good," he responded.

At this, his lackey seemed hesitant. Noticing this, Rumlow raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" he demanded.

"Sir," the man began carefully. "Are you sure you want the Soldier in Wakanda? How are we supposed to reach him?"

"That's already been taken care of," Rumlow sharply replied. It was not needful for a Hydra lackey that was at the bottom of the totem pole and hadn't yet proven himself to know classified intel.

Under his leadership, Hydra had grown exponentially more, more than it had grown when under Pierce even. Rumlow prided his leadership. It had brought this about. Unlike Striker who had made Hydra loose members and then never gain them back, Rumlow had brought the lost ones back under his wing and back into Hydra. And Hydra was stronger than ever and closer to it's goals than ever before.

Turning back, Rumlow ordered, "Tell Gordon I'm ready to go inside. Have them bring up the rear."

"Yes, sir!" the man then saluted him, before leaving.

As Rumlow stepped inside, he was greeted by a balding man. "Sir," the man shook his head in pleasure. "What an honor to have our leader here."

Rumlow could tell the man was a genuine supporter of him. "The same," he greeted, giving a firm squeese with his hands.

The man beckoned him inside. "Lets start the meeting," Rumlow commanded.

The man nodded.

He was led to an ornate conference room with plush brown sheets. Rumlow's men closed the door to the massive room and waited outside, guarding it.

The man, Marion, motioned for Rumlow to sit first since he was the leader. Rumlow did so, sitting at the head of the table as Hydra's custom dictated, and then Marion sat.

Rumlow choose to address the man first, as Hydra's protocol dictated he should do. "I trust that things have been prepared?"

The man nodded with a slight smirk. "I must admit, it's clever, getting back at the Wakandans that way. Anything to drink?"

"Water," Rumlow requested and accepted it graciously. He then nodded to the man.

"Let's move on."

(Steve Point of View)

As Steve packed his belongings, putting what they had into boxes, Steve pondered Bucky's strange behavior. He didn't know where Bucky went when he ran away, but part of him suspected Hydra, while the other part refused to believe it. After all. He had no proof that Bucky went back to Hydra.

No one else thought so. After all, they reasoned, if Bucky went back to Hydra, they wouldn't let him go again. And Bucky always came back. His psychiatrist and therapists didn't think so either

But he did have a trauma bond to Rumlow, and that was concerning. Bucky's safety was an issue, especially with his wandering. Wakanda would be much safer for Bucky, where Hydra didn't exist at all.

Part of Steve was relieved that they were moving. He hoped it would be healthier for Bucky. Bucky was so depressed as it was, that he really needed fresh air to breath. Part of Steve was admittedly worried that Bucky might choose to commit suicide.

His gut clenched at the thought. Steve didn't want to loose his best friend.

It was late by the time Steve had finished packing everything he was going to take. They would be leaving a lot here, as other needful things would be provided to them in Wakanda once they left. And since Steve owned the house and didn't plan on selling it, it was needful for them to leave essentials here for when they came back.

Steve thought coming back to visit some would be good for Bucky, that way they didn't loose touch with their birthplace and their homeland.

With a sigh, Steve placed strapping tape on the last of the boxes they were going to bring. Then, taking a shower, he went to bed.

(Sam Point of View)

With a sigh, Sam read the text he had just received. He was currently in bed, having just finished showering, and in his winter pajamas. A hot chocolate was by his bedside, and he took a sip of the drink.

Steve and Bucky had just been cleared to go to Wakanda. T'challa had just invited Sam Wilson to come in hopes that he could help to counsel Bucky.

Sam frowned. Was it an option or a demand? Sometimes he wasn't sure which it was with the young king.

'I better be careful how I play this,' Sam thought. 'T'challa isn't someone I want to offend. But then again, neither is Steve.' He was going to have to be very careful with his decision.

But truth be told, Sam had nothing against going. He was very interested in Bucky's progress and recovery. In fact, he was hopeful the move would help Bucky open up more and recover faster. He also wanted to see Bucky happy, even if he sometimes pretended not to like Bucky. But the truth was, Sam understood Steve, because if it were Riley, he'd be the same way.

With a sigh, he leaned back in bed and rubbed his hands over his face. 'Sure,' he texted T'Challa back after deliberating for a moment. It was a very careful decision. 'I'll come over.'

He was surpised when he immediately got a text back. One word, curt and to the point.

'Good.'

Sam deliberated more, more cautious than ever. T'Challa had not anticipated him saying no. 'Which means I really had no choice in the end,' Sam mused. T'Challa was more powerful than he thought if he could actually pull this off.

But he also knew that the king meant well. That made Sam wonder what T'challa knew that the rest of them didn't. And if Barnes was in additional danger...

That didn't bode well for any of them. Many others besides Hydra, had gone after Bucky. That made him wonder who else was stirring, eager to get their evil hands on Bucky, eager to have him in their clutches.

'More than one shadow organization?' Sam thought. 'That's not good.'

Bucky was unstable as it was. He'd hate to see what would happen if anyone else go ahold of Bucky.

Sam mused more, his forehead wrinkled in concentration.

'I guess I'd better play my chess pieces carefully, indeed.'

 **I had technology troubles with this chapter. Is anyone else having issues getting documents to save?**

 **Please review.**


	3. Chapter 3: Considerations

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Three: Considerations

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky was a bit nervous as today was the big move day. He had one final session with his therapist and then they would be moving. Bucky still wasn't sure about the move, and as a wave of stress hit him, Rumlow sent some comfort through the bond. But when Bucky sent a feeling of begging through the bond, he felt Rumlow force him through the bond to go through with this. But there was also comfort sent through the link. Bucky whimpered some.

Getting out of bed, Bucky felt a bit unsteady. He shakily dressed and then picked up some of his therapy papers. The latest one that his therapist had sent him home with was titled, "How I feel". Bucky wasn't sure that he wanted to talk about his feelings.

He was quiet as he sat down to breakfast. The toast moved around his plate and he couldn't help but notice the worried look that Steve kept sending him. Bucky did his best to ignore him.

Finally, it seemed Steve couldn't stand it anymore. "Bucky?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Bucky responded in monotone.

There was hesitation. "Are you sure you want to move?"

Bucky glared. He didn't want to talk about it. Especially not to Steve. Steve was too intrusive sometimes.

Steve glared back.

"Fine!" Bucky sighed in exasperation. "I'm stuck. I don't want to move and yet I want to move."

A small smile lit Steve's face, and there was understanding in his gaze. "I think I feel the same way as you." But there was almost suspicion in his gaze like he didn't quite believe him.

It made Bucky nervous to do this. He didn't really want to meet Steve's gaze. And so, he played with his toast, not really eating it.

Everything was quiet as Steve drove him to his appointment. As they sat there in the office, waiting for his therapist/doctor to come out and get him, he stood as still as stone. He knew that Steve was sending him concerned glances. Whenever he went into the Winter Soldier state, even a little bit, it always concerned Steve.

He knew that he wasn't acting himself, and yet he couldn't help it. It was all he could do to cope. He was under so much stress.

Finally, he heard a woman call his name. "Barnes, James."

Bucky stood up robotically stalked towards her. When she saw the state he was in, she gazed at him in a concerned manner, also glancing back at Steve to no doubt see his concerned face.

"This way," she murmured, evidently deciding not to pry, as it wasn't her job to (it was the therapist's), and she led him to his therapists office.

When they reached the hallway and were only fifty feet from the door, Bucky whispered softly, hesitantly, "Can you?..."

She stared at him in confusion for a moment before nodding in understanding. Bucky continued the rest of the way, silent as ever. And, as always, the door was open.

The office was the same, always too happy. Games stood on a shelf, though why, Bucky didn't seem to know. They never played any games. A couple of couches faced each other, and by the couch was a desk with a chair in front of it that was just like those in the living room, and a cushy, black office chair behind it, where a bald man who seemed to be in his forties was sitting.

Another desk formed a L to that desk, and it was on this desk where the computer was, where the doctor was typing. He didn't seem to notice Bucky at first because of how quiet he was, and because he was busy with his work.

Bucky quietly stepped in and sat down. When the doctor turned around he startled for a minute that there was someone on his couch, and then he realized who it was. "Bucky!" he greeted happily. "I didn't see you there. You were so quiet." He turned to look at the clock on his computer. "Boy does time fly softly. I apologize. I didn't realize it was time for your appointment. I'd lost track of time."

Bucky silently held up his completed paperwork and the doctor got up, shut the door, took the papers from him, and sat reading them quietly for a minute. Bucky watched as his expressions changed.

The doctor sighed then looked up. "I think I understand, actually. And if it weren't for the fact that you're moving, I would have time to help you through this, perhaps." He crossed his legs, continuing to hold on to the papers. "I've been on the phone with Wakanda since I got into the office this morning. It came as a surprise, but I suppose, given some of the things that you've written in the past, that I shouldn't be too surprised. I wasn't expecting a change in circumstance either.

"That said, their doctors seem to know what their doing. I have no doubt that you'll have competent care over there. Perhaps better than I can provide, I dare to admit. It might be for the best."

The doctor took his time to watch Bucky for a minute. "It would be pointless, admittedly, to try to work through these things since there's not enough time as it would take several sessions. But if you want to, we can. However, as it's you're last day, I was wanting to ask what _**you**_ wanted to do?"

Bucky wasn't sure what he wanted to do. "I don't know," he finally admitted. He eyed the games for a second.

"Do you want to play something, perhaps?" the doctor raised his eyebrow when he saw what Bucky was looking at. Bucky shrugged. There was a pause. "We've been over this. You have choice, you know."

A sad smile filled Bucky's lips. "Sometimes I forget," was the first thing he said to the man. Then he looked up, hesitantly. "Dr. Plouff, have you..." he hesitated again, before continuing with uncertainty. "Have you ever been torn by a decision you've made?"

Dr. Plouff smiled sadly and then nodded in understanding. "Is this about your decision to go to Wakanda?"

Bucky realized that he needed to be very careful about what he said. "I... I want to go... and yet I don't..."

Nodding, Dr. Plouff tucked in his blue flannel shirt that had become untucked as he moved around. "With decisions there are always emotions involved, no matter what anyone says. It is impossible to remove emotions from decision. We may try to think that we think logically, but in reality, we are emotional beings. Even numbness is an emotion." Bucky looked up surprise as this was mentioned. He remembered all to well how he had been numb for a while, unable to feel, or so it seemed.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "Numbness is an emotion. It's an attempt to bandaid what we're feeling because what we're feeling is so terrible. Or it's because we simply don't have energy to feel the higher emotions. Numbness takes less out of us energetically than something like happiness, even."

For Bucky, it hit too close to home. He didn't like where this conversation is going. "I don't know what you're saying." His voice was monotone as he said it.

Dr. Plouff was sympathetic as he watched him. "You're ability to make decisions has been something you've been struggling with ever since I met you, but especially since you're last captivity with Hydra. Tell me, why do you want to go to Wakanda?"

Bucky fidgeted. "I don't know," he finally said. But as he thought on it, the doctor waiting patiently for him, he realized there was more to it than that, more to it than even Rumlow's command. It's almost like he was trying to **_run away_** from the man. "I guess," Bucky began, messing with his hands, folding and unfolding them. "I guess... it's because... America doesn't feel... safe... anymore. I guess it's because I thought I would be safer."

The man nodded, considering this, waiting for him to continue. "I think... I think that... well... I think that I would have more freedom in Wakanda. I feel so oppressed here..."

"It's the regulations you're under?" Dr. Plouff asked for confirmation. Bucky nodded.

There was consideration for a minute and Dr. Plouff also took the opportunity to make notes. Then he continued. "Why _**don't**_ you want to go to Wakanda?"

Bucky took another minute to form his thoughts, not entirely sure. He also wasn't sure how not to involve Hydra in it. "I guess, it's because this was where I've lived before. This is where I met Steve originally. Steve took care of me here. He did a lot to make sure I could return here. I guess... I guess it seems _**ungrateful**_ , almost like saying that I don't want what he's given me, what he's worked so hard to do." And what he didn't say is that it was because he was pawn forced to decide what was in Hydra's best interest and to go with it.

Fortunately, Dr. Plouff seemed to accept his explanation. He was relieved as he'd always been a terrible liar. That was why Hydra had made him so quiet. "You're attached to here to?" Dr. Plouff asked for confirmation. Bucky nodded, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"I don't want to feel, anymore," Bucky suddenly piped up, quiet. "I don't want to experience my emotions. Their so terrible!"

"But at the same time, if you don't feel then you can't heal. You'll have to face it eventually."

Bucky shook his head. "I don't want to! All those people that I killed! How can I live with that? Ever?"

"And self forgiveness is something we've been trying to work on for a while," Dr. Plouff encouraged gently. "I understand you're feelings of guilt." Bucky scoffed but the doctor continued. "There are a lot of PTSD veterans that come through my office, looking to find peace."

Bucky scoffed again. "No, you don't understand! You haven't been through what I've been through!"

"You're right," the doctor whispered gently. "But I've also had the experience of seeing a lot of veterans who come through that door, hopeless, gradually heal to where they can live normal lives. And while for many it never goes away completely, most are able to find peace."

Bucky snorted. "You've probably never dealt with a veteran like me before!"

"I wouldn't be so sure," the doctor countered. "There was a reason I was contacted to be your therapist. I've dealt with prisoners of war over in Iraq that were tortured. I've also dealt with victims of kidnapping, many of whom were children. Some of these were teenagers who were kidnapped by an abuse parent and brainwashed. Sometimes they were told to do things that they didn't like. And I've also dealt with other extreme cases that I'm not allowed to talk about. You're case is unique in many ways, yes, as you're the longest prisoner of war on record in the world. That makes it very severe just on that, yes. And plus the fact that there are government mandates on you, which does interfere with my work, I might add. But to say the other cases weren't unique is not an entire truth. Every case is unique, in truth. I am well qualified to be your therapist."

A sigh escaped Bucky as he gave up. "Believe it or not, behavior from these incidents can be categorized. People tend to respond to things in certain ways when faced with certain things. Part of that depends on other things, like personality, but there is pattern."

"Am I number?" Bucky asked.

"No," Dr. Plouff reassured him softly. "Never. I've never seen you as a number. You're my patient. A patient that has been through a lot, yes, but my patient none the less. And what's more than that, it's an honor to work with you. I've never had the opportunity to work with a World War II veteran before, let alone one that was famous for his exploits of the enemy."

Bucky wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "I'm not... too messed up?" he ventured.

The doctor shook his head. "You're hurt. You're in pain. And this work is about healing. I can only hope that when you do go to Wakanda, you'll find some peace."

Nodding at this, Bucky gave it some thought. He'd always thought that Hydra had taken away his ability to feel during the time he as held captive, but as he was beginning to realize, maybe he was merely numb, as his doctor had informed him. Maybe it was so painful that it had to be numb. Maybe it was the only way that he could survive.

And now that he thought about it, he had to be able to feel. After all, he had quickly gained back the ability to feel after that. The fact that he was traumatized was proof enough for that. And, somehow, after his handler had died, Steve had been able to pierce through to his heart on the helicarrier.

But if that was the case, then why was his bond with Rumlow different? Rumlow had theorized that their bond had gone awry because of the fact that Bucky could now feel. The theory was that Bucky couldn't feel then, and he could feel now.

Bucky wasn't sure that he could accept this explanation. "It just doesn't make sense," he told Dr. Plouff.

"What doesn't?" Dr. Plouff inquired curiously, his pen tip ready.

"You saying that I really could feel," Bucky replied. "Yeah, I can feel now, but then..."

"What makes you think numbness isn't feeling?" Dr. Plouff then asked.

Bucky shut his mouth quickly. He wasn't allowed to reveal anything about Rumlow, let alone the bond to anyone who wasn't Hydra. "N-Nothing," Bucky quickly stammered. He hoped that Dr. Plouff would drop the subject, but unfortunately Dr. Plouff's expression continued to remain curious.

"Why nothing?" Dr. Plouff inquired. "Might I remind you, that I can only do my job if you voice your concerns and your thoughts?"

"You said that I wouldn't be forced into talking," Bucky accused, now going on the defensive.

And caution reigned in his therapists' answer. "No," he admitted. He was carefully choosing his words. "But I can't do my job properly if you don't voice your thoughts. It's true that I can't force you, and thus that limits what I am able to do for you, and how I'm able to help you."

Taking a deep breath in frustration, Bucky finally admitted, choosing his words carefully, and purposely excluding certain things, "I didn't _**feel**_ anything as I was going through all **_that_**. In fact, most I didn't even remember at all. I didn't remember from one time to the next. There wasn't even time to develop feelings. It was just orders, orders, orders."

"But you did," Dr. Plouff insisted. "Remember the things you told me? When you were harshly punished, you were in distress. Is that not feeling?" Bucky was silent. "It may not have been the normal feeling, but it was feeling. After all, if you weren't truly feeling, then why were you so scared when you were kidnapped by Hydra?"

Bucky went stalk still. Though he hadn't revealed everything that had happened, he had voiced his feelings on some things, even without really revealing what had happened. He had talked about how frightening it had been to be kidnapped, and the fears he had faced, then, as he anticipated what Hydra was going to do to him when he finally got there.

"What are you saying?" Bucky demanded, wanting Dr. Plouff to take back what he said.

But that's not what Dr. Plouff did. "You did feel," Dr. Plouff confirmed. "That's why they were able to have such an impact on you when you were kidnapped, because you could feel then. You were anticipating what was going to happen based your fears from what had happened last time. You knew they were going to hurt you like last time, and you were scared because of it. You couldn't have had such a reaction if there was no feeling while you were in captivity the first time. It was a feeling of knowing, of anticipating what you were going to go through when Rumlow took you."

Bucky wanted to deny it, but in the end he knew that his therapist was right. It was hard to come to terms with it, though. "You're feelings overrided your ability to think clearly," Dr. Plouff added. "And thus you were able to be brainwashed, because your mind was already compromised by your emotions." Bucky put his head in his hands as his doctor continued talking. It was hard to hear this. "You were no longer in a position where you could see options." It his so close to home that it hurt Bucky. "All you knew was pain, and that more would be inflicted if you didn't do what they asked. And all you knew was that they would continue hurting you if you didn't believe. So you finally believed."

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered, a tear running down his cheek.

His doctor put a compassionate hand on Bucky's shoulders. "It's not your fault. Anyone would have fallen in those circumstances, truth be told."

That didn't make Bucky feel any better. "It still hurts," he admitted. "I know I don't know all the people I've killed, and so it really, really hurts. It hurts that I did all those things."

"Under duress," Dr. Plouff acknowledged. "I don't believe anyone would have done differently. You didn't even know who you were, let alone right from wrong. You did what you were told. They misled you. You thought that they were right. You thought that you were helping the world. They preyed on you, on your personality, on what you believe, on your convictions, in order to manipulate you and make you do what they wanted. It's not your fault."

"But I still feel guilty," more silent tears fell down Bucky's face. "That guilt can't go away."

"And that's where self forgiveness comes in," the doctor encouraged.

Looking up in a somber manner, Bucky asked, "But... what about _**them**_? The victims' families? I can't give back what I took from them."

"What **_Hydra_** took from them," the doctor slightly reprimanded him. "Even under the law, you can't be held accountable. You're just as much as a victim as those whose lives you took while under duress from Hydra. In fact, you're more a victim, because you were forced to do those things. They are to blame, not you."

"But what about **_them_**?" Bucky emphasized.

"Don't worry about them," Dr. Plouff commanded. "You've got enough to worry about as it is. You can't expect to deal with their package as well. Let them deal with their own package."

"That's hard to do," Bucky grumbled in complaint.

"And that's because of your caring nature, the very nature which Hydra preyed on to make you into the Winter Soldier."

Bucky flinched at that. It hit too close to home. And he didn't want to hear it.

Fortunately, his therapist seemed to pick up on his mood. "I know it's hard to hear," he murmured. "But you have to accept it. Then you can move forward."

A sigh escaped from Bucky. "I don't know that that will ever be a possibility."

"It can be," his therapist encouraged him. "But the question is why don't you want to? Is it because of the guilt you feel? Why don't you want to forgive yourself? Why not relieve yourself of the burden you are under? Wouldn't that be so much easier than going through **_this_** all the time? Why not elect to feel better?"

"It's not as easy as that," Bucky argued. He hated how his therapist made it sound so easy.

"I know," Dr. Plouff sympathetically responded, and there was understanding in his eyes. "But that's what I'm here for, even if you still want to talk while you're in Wakanda. If you ever need an appointment, feel free to make a call."

Bucky nodded. "Thanks," he whispered. He knew his appointment was coming to a close, and as hard as it was to admit, he was going to miss Dr. Plouff. The man had worked hard to gain his trust and had earned it, something none of the other doctors he had seen had been able to do. Bucky was always suspicious of them. But not Dr. Plouff.

The man nodded back and got up. He stuck out his hand. "It's been an honor to work with you while I was able, Sergeant Barnes."

"Thanks," Bucky smiled, and there was sadness in his gaze. They shook hands and then Dr. Plouff led him out. "I think I'll take you up on your offer," Bucky then voiced with a slight crackling. "But it might be a while."

"That's understandable," Dr. Plouff responded. "It might take some time to get resettled and comfortable with another therapist. But I encourage you to keep up the good work and to continue working through your emotions. I believe you will find peace if you do."

Bucky nodded silently, staring into the distance. They were quiet the rest of the way to Steve.

Steve watched Bucky as they they came beside him, and then stuck out his hand to Dr. Plouff. "Thanks for working with him."

"My pleasure," Dr. Plouff responded. "I told him that if he ever wants a phone call appointment, he's welcome. Of course, he'll probably have better in Wakanda, but the option's there. They're so far advanced in Wakanda. I can't help but think that this might benefit him."

Steve nodded. "I'd never thought of it in that way, but I suppose you're right."

There was an awkward silence, and then Steve looked at his watch. He startled in surprise. "Oh! We'd better be going! The private plane should be ready to go real soon!" And with that, Steve led them out to the car they were renting to bring the boxes over. His motorbike wouldn't be able to do that and he didn't have a car.

It was in the middle of the drive that Steve's cell phone rang. Of course, Steve didn't pick it up. But then Bucky's phone rang. Bucky grabbed it and looked at it, while glancing out the window. He frowned as he saw Natasha's name and then put it back. But when it rang again, Bucky looked at that text from Natasha on the phone. "Tell Steve to pick up his phone. We need to talk. It's an emergency."

Sighing, he informed, "Steve, it's Natasha. She says it's an emergency and that she needs to talk to you."

Steve nodded and pulled over at the first opportunity, in an old neighborhood. Bucky didn't like the place and eyed it warily, well aware of the danger present. None the less, he also payed close attention to the phone as Steve dialed Natasha. It would be easy to hear the conversation with his supersoldier hearing. That was the only thing about being a supersoldier and having two supersoldiers in the house, no privacy, not even in phone conversations. But it mainly affected Steve because Steve was the one usually on the phone, not Bucky, because Bucky didn't have anyone to call.

"Nat?" Steve questioned when she picked up immediately on the first ring. "What is it?"

"Steve!" there was worry in her voice. "I'm so glad I caught you on time! There's been a development that you need to know about!"

"What is it?" Steve asked in concern.

There was a pause. "There's been an attack _**inside**_ Wakanda. And it was deadly."

(A couple hours later)

Bucky watched as Steve paced far enough from Bucky to where Bucky couldn't overhear. Steve had made sure to tell Bucky to stay where he was at while he finished his phone call with Natasha. He had then proceeded to make other phone calls.

Though Bucky hated being left out of the loop, he understood the reason. They were still worried about his 'brainwashing' and there were things they didn't feel comfortable him knowing or overhearing. Apparently this was one of them. Though why they didn't like telling him when they knew he hated being left out of the loop, he didn't know. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they now considered him extremely mentally unstable. And it irked Bucky that they treated him like that.

Finally, the last phone call ended and a worried looking Steve came over. Bucky eyed him in expectation and anticipation.

"Bucky," Steve sighed, as if not sure how to tell him.

"Yes?" Bucky prompted when too much time had passed.

There was more hesitation. Then, "We're not going to Wakanda." He let the shock sink into Bucky for a minute. What would Rumlow do now? "It's too dangerous," Steve elaborated. "And they're still trying to clean it up, let alone figure out how they got in to begin with."

"It? Who's 'it'?"

Steve hesitated again. But instead of answering Bucky's question, he continued, "King T'Challa has decided to call it quits. He said it's too dangerous over there right now, and that you're safer over there. He said he wants you safe instead."

"T'Challa said that?" Bucky gasped in surprise. The only way that that could happen was if it was extremely serious. "What happened?" he demanded.

Steve shook his head. "Not right now. I'm still trying to get the facts, truth be told. Whatever T'Challa knew, he was hesitant to say it over the phone. He must think that they're being watched."

"But what happened?!" Bucky demanded, tired of Steve skirting the issue and avoiding his question. He was tired of this kind of behavior around him.

"I don't know!" Steve ground out, and that was when Bucky knew he was serious and how much it scared Steve. "But whatever happened worries me. I don't want to go over there and potentially get caught up in a dangerous situation, especially where it might be over **_you_**."

"Is it over me?" Bucky demanded.

"I don't know," Steve sighed. "My intel is a little on the limited side right now."

Bucky frowned. It was not a lot of information to go on, and he wasn't sure how this was going to affect his life from now on. Had Hydra done something? But as he thought on it, he didn't think it was the case.

A growing sense of frustration swept through him and Rumlow sent comfort through the link. But based on what he was feeling, he wasn't sure if Rumlow knew what had happened or not.

"Now what?" Bucky demanded.

Steve looked uncertain. "I guess we head home," he shrugged, and there was a sense of insecurity about him. Bucky didn't blame him. He didn't feel secure either, and he was tired of being a pawn in someone else's game, even Rumlow's.

Sighing, they both got back in the car and returned the vehicle. Bucky couldn't help but think that this meant he would be keeping his therapist for a while yet. But after returning the vehicle and riding Steve's bike the rest of the way home, Bucky began feeling tired. In a way, he was glad that they weren't going to be traveling today. All of these emotions were draining.

As his friend noticed his sluggish eyes, he commented, "I think you'd better get to bed. I know that you had troubles sleeping last night."

Bucky didn't even bother asking him how he knew that he had had troubles sleeping. Steve always knew, and it annoyed him sometimes how concerned Steve got, especially when it interfered in him doing his work for Rumlow. But this time he was grateful.

"Thanks," he murmured softly.

He trudged up the stairs and took his boots off, getting into bed. He didn't even bother changing into his pajamas because he was just too tired. Some heavy footsteps were heard and then a thud, and Bucky knew in that instant that Steve had dropped his suitcase off.

Yawning, he felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier. The last thing he knew before going to sleep was a sense of shock coming from Rumlow. He knew Rumlow wasn't in any danger, though, and he also knew that Rumlow was trying to tone down his leaking emotions for Bucky's sake because he could sense how exhausted Bucky was.

Comfort came, and Bucky fell asleep.

(A few hours later)

When he woke up, Bucky gave a startle as he saw Steve in the room. It was unexpected as Steve always respected his privacy, so he yelped.

Steve was sitting in a chair beside him, and when he heard the commotion and Bucky bang his head against the headboard of the bed, he rested a hand lightly on his friend's shoulders. And as Bucky looked closer, he saw the concern on Steve's face.

The room was dark, probably after midnight. Bucky had slept for several hours then. The moonlight came in and made the worried look on Steve's face look darker.

"Sorry," Steve murmured, his voice tight, and that was when Bucky knew that there was something really wrong. "I didn't mean to startle you."

A sound came outside the window, and Bucky was about to jump up and grab a weapon, ready to go Winter Soldier style, when Steve held him down, his hands pushing Bucky back into bed. "It's Natasha," he murmured slightly. "She's out there looking out for us."

Bucky looked at Steve in confusion. "What?!" he voiced in concern. "Why's Natasha here?"

There was reluctance in Steve's gaze. Anger built inside of Bucky. "Are you really trying to hide this from me?" he demanded. Inside he cringed, for he knew he was being a hypocrite, hiding his own problems from Steve since before his kidnapping and especially since. But he couldn't help it. His stomach felt tight.

Steve looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I just wanted you to rest. You've been through a lot all ready, and I didn't want to burden you."

"Not telling me is burdening me already. Come on! Aren't you going to trust me?"

A sigh escaped his friend. "All right," Steve finally gave in, turning to face him. There was a hesitation, as if he wasn't quite sure how to word things, and then Steve charged straight in. "What happened in Wakanda? We're still trying to figure things out. But I did receive another message from T'Challa. Somehow someone knew we were going over there, and an attack was launched at where we were going to be staying. They were looking for you. Apparently they knew we were going to be over there and the day, but not the arrival time. Intel suggests that they were going to drug you and take you away."

Shock filled Bucky. Hydra was the only other one that knew about Bucky going to Wakanda. Well, and the government to, but they didn't have all the details.

"I don't understand," Bucky murmured.

"Neither do we," Steve's stressed voice came. "It doesn't make sense. We have no idea where the information leak came from, let alone how they made it into Wakanda." Bucky could tell how much this was scaring Steve. "And what's more is we don't know how they're tracking our movements. That makes me really concerned. For all we know, they know that you're here right now and they could target you any time. We don't want to take that risk, and so I have people, including Natasha, here protecting you right now."

Bucky squirmed uncomfortably. But based on Rumlow's comments, he was pretty sure Hydra had figured out a way into Wakanda. But Hydra wouldn't have done such a thing when they wanted him as a spy in Wakanda. Could someone else have figured this loophole out as well?

Suddenly, Bucky didn't feel very safe. And he knew that Steve could see that, but he couldn't help it. It was a very unsettling position for both of them.

"Who all knew?" Bucky demanded, looking directly at Steve.

Steve shook his head. "A handful of people only when it came to our travel plans and exactly where we were going to be staying, both in Wakanda and out. And I can't imagine any of them betraying us like this, even accidentally. They're competent, loyal friends. That means someone must have found out some other way."

"We're not being tapped," Bucky confirmed. "I know what to look for." And this left a puzzled look on both of their faces.

Steve shook his head. "Something isn't right."

Bucky snorted. "You can say that again."

Honestly, Bucky wasn't sure how he was going to explain this little mess up to his handler, and he was feeling the pull to come in at the first available moment already. He wasn't ready to face Brock. He didn't think Brock would hurt him like his other handlers would in this situation, though because Brock was being so lenient to him. But still, he didn't want to risk it.

Steve did his best to put a smile on his face. "Try not to worry about it," he encouraged Bucky. "We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," Bucky replied dejectedly. His thoughts were in another direction, in another area.

With a sigh, Steve leaned back in his chair. Bucky decided to encourage it. He needed to speak with Rumlow soon. "Why don't you get some rest?" he whispered encouragingly. "After all, Natasha can handle whoever comes. You'll hear about it if they do come. That, and the other two will help her." Bucky wasn't sure who the other two were that he heard moving around out there, but he could hear them.

Steve smiled. "You're always such a comfort to me, even when we were little. The truth is, I came in here to be reassured that you're still here and that no one was coming to take you, that no one _**had**_ already taken you."

Internally, Bucky cringed, but he kept his face straight. That struck him to the heart, especially since he knew he was going to disappear for a little bit and probably worry Steve out of his mind. Steve was too attached to him, but then again Bucky was too attached to Steve.

"I'm fine, Steve!" Bucky insisted since he couldn't promise Steve that he wasn't going to disappear, at least temporarily. "Honestly, you think you'd say something more encouraging, given the situation."

Realizing his mistake, Steve blushed. "Sorry. It wasn't my intention to make you more worried."

"But you did."

Leaning back, Steve closed his eyes. "Fine, you win."

A smirk lit Bucky's face. "I always win, Steve."

"That you do."

He knew Steve wanted to contest it but was unwilling to at this point. There was far more on the man's mind that needed his attention. That, and Steve was too tired.

He waited until he knew that Steve was sound asleep before slipping out of bed, quiet as a ghost. Checking with his hearing to make sure that Natasha was still where she was, along with the other two, Bucky slipped out of the house, a wraith in the night.

It didn't take him long to get to the top secret underground facility where he would be held captive for probably the next few days. Slipping in, he startled some of the guards who eyed him nervously, knowing who he was. Taking a deep breath, he stalked quietly down the maze of hallways until he reached Rumlow's office which was deep inside the facility and several layers down.

He hesitated for a moment before going in, taking a big breath.

Rumlow was sitting at his desk, going over papers. But he motioned for Bucky to sit down in the comfortable chair across from him, an office chair like his. And Bucky knew that Rumlow had put it out just for him to make him feel better about all of this. That encouraged Bucky some.

Being obedient, Bucky closed the door without making a noise and sat down. He waited patiently.

Looking at the paperwork, Bucky realized it was an inconsequential statistic report of a company in Norway. No wonder why Rumlow didn't mind if he saw it or not. With a sigh, Rumlow turned it around for his full view. "Tell me, what do you think about all this?"

Shocked that his handler was asking for his opinion, he shakily took the report and read it. Puzzled, he looked up at his handler. "I don't understand why you're so interested. This company isn't even an influencer in the slightest and the staff is inconsequential. There's nobody important there."

Brock shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But that's not what I'm interested in." Bucky tilted his head in curiosity. Rumlow shook his head. "Never mind." He put the report away, filing it in one of the drawers of his desk. "Maybe later, depending on how much time we have."

This instantly made Bucky somewhat cautious. Being careful with his words, he asked, "How long _**am**_ I staying here for?"

Sighing, Brock shook his head, a soft smile on his face. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want you to be afraid. I want you to be comfortable. That's why I brought out that nice chair for you, Bucky. I don't want this to be a stressful time for you whenever you have to come stay in Hydra."

"How can it not be?" Bucky challenged, slightly more confident. "I'm a captive."

Eyeing him sympathetically, Rumlow tapped his hand that was now resting on his desk. "This is supposed to be a home to you. Can't you **_try_** to make a home here?"

Silence ensued on both ends. "I don't think I can," Bucky carefully stated. But there was an indecipherable look on Rumlow's face, almost like he was taking it as a challenge and was accepting that. "We'll see," Rumlow murmured softly. "You can have everything here, you know. Anything you want. Think about that. Is there anything you'd want? I can get it for you."

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. "And how is that possible?"

Rumlow smiled kindly. "I have my ways. Besides, Hydra is to own the world someday. I'll soon have everything, and you'll have more options."

When Brock saw how uncomfortable this statement made Bucky, he sighed and decided to move the conversation away. "You know why you're here," he stated. But there was now a different kind of concern in his eyes, and some worry for Bucky. "Are you all right?"

Bucky knew he wasn't referring to their previous conversation but instead the attack on Wakanda. He silently nodded his head. "Yeah." Tilting his head, he asked, "How?"

Brock shook his head. "We don't know. We're still investigating it ourselves, but it complicates things that you have Wakandan authorities involved and now those who are associated with Avengers. I've had to have my people be very careful because I don't want Hydra to be blamed for this. As it is, the only information we've been able to access is third party and anything the investigators turned up. We haven't been able to directly investigate, so we're relying on the investigations of others to turn things up."

"So you are in Wakanda?" Bucky demanded to know. Rumlow was strangely silent and narrowed his eyes in warning at Bucky. That was when Bucky knew that that particular part of the conversation was off limits. He wasn't supposed to know about it.

Rumlow changed the subject. "What we do know for certain is that it involved you, or rather was about you. Tell me, how much has Steve told you?"

"Not much," Bucky admitted. "His intel has been limited as it is and I suspect that he knows more than he's telling me."

"It's a very closed investigation," Rumlow admitted. "It's not something even specialized forces are going to know about. They're being very careful about this and keeping this very tight lipped." He let out a sly smile. "The last thing anyone wants is another thing getting out that the Winter Soldier is being threatened. The politics _**that**_ would cause would be a sight to behold. They're scared of people getting their hands on you and using you for their bidding. As it is, a number of people think it would be better and safer for everybody to lock you in a mental asylum and not let you out. That increased since you're last known kidnapping. They're scared of you."

Bucky shuddered. "Steve never mentioned this."

"I doubt it," Rumlow sarcastically responded. "He keeps a close eye on you. He seems more in line with keeping information from you that could potentially stress you out. He seems to be filtering what you receive."

"And you don't?" Bucky challenged. Rumlow raised an eyebrow.

"Politics," Rumlow pointed out. "You're not going to get away from that any time soon. Everyone is playing politics with you."

"Of course," Bucky growled, a little upset. "But at least Steve should be more honest with me."

"Not my place," Rumlow waved him off, and Bucky knew that the topic was upsetting to Rumlow. Anything to do with Steve was upsetting to him. But he did seem somewhat pleased that Bucky was frustrated with Steve. But he was also slightly sympathetic, being able to sense Bucky's emotions constantly. "Back to the topic on hand," Rumlow demanded. "Now what _**exactly**_ did Steve tell you?"

And with that, Bucky was forced to launch into his explanation of what was happening. Rumlow was listening intently, nodding as he heard.

"It makes sense," Rumlow finally stated. "Keeping you home, I mean," he clarified at Bucky's confused expressions and emotions. "If I were him I would do the same thing, not let you out of my sight." And a displeased look came on Brock's face that he was agreeing with Steve's decision. He sighed. "And that's what I'm going to do now, at least for a little while."

"What?!" Bucky sat straight up, slightly outraged.

Holding up an appeasing hand, Rumlow replied, "You knew this was going to happen."

"And I didn't have a choice in it!"

"Stop cutting me off," Rumlow was firm, but gentle. Waiting for a little bit, he continued. "It's that time of the month, Bucky. It's time for you to come home. It's time for you to spend some time with Hydra. It's also time for some training." Bucky cringed at the word training and Brock shook his head. "That's not what I mean by training. It won't hurt, I promise. It's not like that at all. Think of it more as college. I think you'll understand as you go through it."

"You mean brainwashing?" Bucky was cautious, pressed against the chair and stiff now.

Rumlow shook his head. "No, I mean a real education. Remember how I asked you what you wanted? Well, you need a 'career', even with Hydra. Honestly, we'll start small. The basics that every college goer needs to graduate, like biology." When Brock saw Bucky cringe at that word, he added, "We'll adjust it to your needs. But you need to be educated."

"I've already been to college," Bucky pointed out.

"And the world has changed," Rumlow insisted. "I did read your records, remember? The degrees that you have are outdated, and some of them are obsolete because they simply don't exist any more. You need an up to date education in order to better service Hydra. And we'll go at you're pace. You have seventy years of information to make up."

"I don't know about this," Bucky groaned, not sure how he felt about it. But he also knew he wasn't going to have a choice in this.

"It'll be all right," Rumlow reassured him. "Hydra has some of the best teachers around, and some of them really do work at real life universities and colleges. That's how we get some of our recruits. They'll know the up to date information needed to get you the skills you need to succeed in the world and in Hydra."

"I'm not ready for a job!" Bucky protested.

A wry smile lit Brock's face. "I never said a traditional job. And technically, you already have a job - working for Hydra."

Bucky shivered at this. "So you'll educate me to be a better assassin," he sarcastically retorted.

Rumlow eyed him sympathetically. "Who said it's all about assassination? And like I said, you'll have choice. That is unless you start causing problems. But there will be some requirements. Even ordinary college goers have some requirements in their education. And now that you mention it, maybe we should expand your skills to include more than assassination. Look at the Black Widow and Hawkeye. Teaching at least a minimum of espionage techniques would be useful. It might even save your life."

"I don't want it!" Bucky whispered, eyeing him with fear.

"There's no need to be afraid," Rumlow reassured him, jotting down a note about espionage as a possible subject for consideration. "Primarily it will be things you would encounter in college in the real world."

"But _**why**_?" There was some sort of desperation in Bucky's gaze. "And how am I even supposed to explain this to Steve?"

"You're not," Rumlow was firm. "As for why, its a simple answer. It's the same as knowing how to type on a computer: its useful skills that come in handy for multiple things. Now Hydra did keep you're education up somewhat on certain things, piloting, and fighting techniques, even computer hacking. But it's time to expand it. There's a lot more information you could glean from the world, Bucky, and you're not gleaning it because you don't have the education to. Previously, the mentality was that the less education or the less well rounded education for you was better and would keep you more in line, but I don't think so. The world is changing, and so we must as well. I think it would actually be better for us to have you more educated and with a little more freedom."

"So it's back to enabling me to serve Hydra better?" Bucky demanded, an unhappy look on his face.

Rumlow nodded. "Essentially. It can be used for that. But it's also for your own good. I think giving you to do something here, something fulfilling, would be good for your psychology as opposed to sitting around all day or having limited activities. Don't you?"

Bucky was hesitant. While he was sure he could understand where Rumlow was coming from, he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. It all boiled down to one question: how was Hydra going to have him using this education?

"Some of it is for personal reasons," Rumlow confirmed as he saw his Asset's hesitation. "I **_do_** want the best for you in life. Hydra initially kept your education limited for a reason, but I'm hoping to break that and expand you, give you more freedom. I want you **_comfortable_**."

"But I still don't have a choice in this?" Bucky reluctantly asked.

"No," Rumlow confirmed. "You can either have some choice in the subjects and cooperate, and hopefully have some enjoyment, or if you are utterly refusing, I will choose the subjects for you. Think on that." And with a sigh he dismissed Bucky.

With a grumble, Bucky retreated. He didn't care that Rumlow was shaking his head at him. All he cared was that his day wasn't going as planned, even at Hydra. After being pulled suddenly and without warning from the safety and security of his home, he wasn't feeling very safe or very well.

He paused on the way to the door, hand on the handle, trying to get his breathing under control. He had no idea how long he was going to be stuck here.

"Here," and he heard Brock get up. "I'll escort you to your quarters. I've done enough work today anyways."

Bucky was obedient and waited for him. When Rumlow reached him, he briefly put a hand on his shoulders, comforting him. Bucky felt himself gradually relax. Strangely enough, it was comforting to have his handler there.

"It will be all right," Rumlow reassured him. "We'll get through this together." With that, he pushed the door open.

Bucky, being the subservient one in the bond, trailed behind Brock. Brock led him through the twisted hallways and finally to a house underground.

It was a good sized house, around four thousand square feet, Bucky figured. And he knew that Brock had it all to himself. Bucky looked up at the vast ceiling that was painted to look like starlight, and as he saw the towering house in front of him, he gulped. Looking right and left, he looked at the city sprawled in front of him under the vast ceiling of the Hydra establishment.

He had been to this base many times already and had seen the city inside from a distance. But he'd never actually stepped foot in the city. He knew the city was massive, though. And on the side note, he did think the architecture was amazing. He knew of no one else that could pull a stunt like this off.

But then he looked at the house. Sometimes, Pierce would have him stay with him. But that was usually when he was bad and Pierce thought that he should keep an eye on him to make sure he stayed out of trouble and did what Hydra wanted him to do. His handlers had used it as a safety precaution for their personnel sometimes, seeing as they could control Bucky and the others couldn't. So why was he here? Had he displeased his handler?

He gulped. He knew that Rumlow was aware of his emotions for his handler sent comfort through the link. "Here? Why here?" Fear permeated his voice.

Brock turned around and put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. It's all right. You're not in trouble."

He followed Brock, pausing before he stepped inside. The sight took his breath away. Here from this side of the house, he could see a chandelier. It seemed to be made of crystal. And on the far side, he saw a fish tank even.

Bucky knew one thing for sure, someone had to be maintaining this house so pristine clean. And Rumlow didn't have time to do that as leader of Hydra. A part of Bucky wondered when Brock had gotten a maid to clean for him. He'd never even realized that his handler lived the city as Brock seemed to travel an awful lot. He was beginning to wonder how much he really didn't know about his handler.

He stepped inside and shut the door. Every Hydra establishment had a city full of beautiful, large houses, as far as he knew. And though there was enough for everybody, most everybody chose not to live in Hydra itself. Although, some did choose to have property within the Hydra complex as well.

One thing bugged him though. "Why am I here?" Bucky repeated.

Brock raised an eyebrow. "Why so curious?

"I only ever stay at my handler's houses when I'm in trouble so that they can keep me in line," Bucky explained. There was still some worry inside of him.

A sigh escaped Rumlow. "You're here so that I can take care of you. I want you to be comfortable. You're too tense and it's making a lot of my personnel nervous." Bucky flinched and Rumlow brought up a hand. "You're not in trouble, like I said. I just thought some separation could do you some good. That, and I figured it would be good for your health for you to have the comforts of a home instead of staying in one of the guest quarters. That doesn't give the **_feel_** of a home. You **_are_** wanted, Bucky. This **_is_** supposed to be a home for you. I want you to feel like you don't have to hide yourself here."

He wasn't sure how to respond. And he watched as Rumlow observed his hesitation. With a sigh, Brock decided to let it be for now. "Come," he commanded, and he led Bucky up the vast staircase to the fourth floor.

Bucky did his best to look around as they went upstairs. But he felt the pull of the bond drag him further, and he felt his handler's tiredness. "Maybe I'll let you explore later tomorrow," Rumlow murmured softly.

At long last they stopped near a bedroom. Brock opened it up and Bucky gasped. Rumlow turned around and smiled at him kindly, motioning him inside. Bucky did so, and was nervous as Rumlow shut the door. He peered around in apprehension.

Rumlow was frowning. "You don't like the architecture?"

It was blantantly obvious that everything in the room was Hydra. Brock had gotten him bedsheets that said 'Hail Hydra', and the linens said the same. The quilt was a quilt with Hydra squids. Even the carpet had clear Hydra emblems on it.

The fan on top that was turned off was carved with Hydra emblems, mainly squids. The bookcase was painted with Hydra squids and had books on Hydra in it. Even the cd player on top had Hydra embossed on it. The cds beside it, brand new and unopened, were clearly about Hydra.

There was no wallpaper, but the walls were painted with squids all over. The lone desk in the corner had legs that formed squids, and even the pencils were Hail Hydra pencils.

Bucky's face was pale and he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. The room was big and vast, sure, but he was trepidatious. Just for the sake of looking, he checked out the bathroom that came with his room. The mirror was in the shape of a squid, somehow the vanity and sink top had squids all over it, the curtains had squids and the Hail Hydra emblems, the towels said Hail Hydra, the tub was in the shape of a squid, the toilet somehow carved to be a squid, the facet embossed with squids, and even the toilet paper had squids all over it.

He came out, noticing that Brock was watching him. He went to the walk in closet, hoping for something different.

Bucky paled further. The walls were painted with squids and the hangers, some of them not occupied with clothes, somehow were carved with squids all over them. A laundry basket with Hail Hydra painted on it lay on the far end. The floor was the same as that in the bedroom, with squids on it. And even worse, all of his clothing, even the pajamas, were Hydra. Some said Hail Hydra. Others had quotes on it from some of his handlers. Others had quotes (mostly t-shirts) from notable Hydra members.

Bucky backed out of the closet in horror. He was shaking visibly, somewhat disturbed.

He heard Brock come up behind him and put a soft hand on his shoulder. Bucky whimpered some. "I'm not going to hurt you," Rumlow reassured him.

It took a moment for Bucky to compose himself, and when he did, he turned to his handler, horror written on his face. "I don't understand..." he pled.

Rumlow nodded. "Try not to think too much on it. Consider it a gift."

"I thought I wasn't allowed to own property," Bucky approached with caution. "I'm a slave."

"You're not," Rumlow confirmed. "It's mine, technically. But since you're mine I'm giving you permission to treat it as your property as long as you take care of it, technicalities aside. I'll only take it away, if you're in trouble. And please do try to take care of it. I took the time to make sure I got the best for you, because I care. I want you to be comfortable."

"Why is everything Hydra, though!" Bucky burst out. "Even the clothing! Surely you're not saying you're expecting me to wear _**that**_?"

Brock stiffened, and from the feelings Bucky was getting, he could tell that Brock was offended. "I didn't realize you were unappreciative of gifts," Brock steeled. He glared at him then. "While you're here, you'll wear what I give you to wear. You have a full closet now from which to choose from instead of being handed the clothes your going to wear for the day. I'm giving you a _**choice**_ , Bucky. And what's more, last time I noticed Steve give you something, you didn't complain. You were grateful. So why is it when I give you something, you pull this ingratitude on me? **_I'm_** your handler, not **_him_**."

Bucky knew he had crossed the line at this point. His handler wasn't going to listen while he was offended.

Brock stalked out the room. He stopped by the door, though. His hand was on the door knob. "You know, I was trying to do something nice for you. I was trying to tell you how much I care about you. Guess you don't like that. Guess only **_Steve_** can give you nice things." Bucky flinched. With that he left and slammed the door. The door locked behind him. The sound of a force shield coming up outside the door, surrounding his room, even the windows, was heard.

At first, Bucky was in shock. His handler was still mad, he could feel it. Then, it all came crashing down, and Bucky collapsed on the floor, crying, curling his knees into his chest, sitting up and rocking slightly.

"I don't want to be here!" he sobbed. "I don't want to be here! I don't want to be here! I don't want to be here!"

For how long he cried, he didn't know, but he cried until the tears ran dry. Sobs still escaped him.

He was exhausted when he was done, and he curled on his side into fetal position, moaning in grief.

For a while he thought of nothing. He listened to what he could hear, but he was too exhausted to do anything more. His encounter with Rumlow was exhausting.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He was too exhausted to change out of his clothes, so he went to his Hydra bed and curled up under the sheets. He was out in the blink of an eye.

 **Sorry it took so long to update this story. There is more to come.**

 **Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Frustrations

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Four: Frustrations

(Bucky Point of View)

Strangely enough, Bucky slept deeply that night, as if he had been drugged. He knew he wasn't though. When he woke up, his body felt fine. But he could tell that he'd slept deeply because of exhaustion.

Sitting up and stretching, a yawn coming from his face, Bucky did his best to ignore the architecture. He wasn't quite ready to acknowledge the previous days' quarrel with his handler.

Sighing, he got up and lightly tip toed to the door. Checking it out, he saw that the squid handle was unlocked, and the door with squid carvings on the back (but none on the front of the door) opened up wide.

Bucky was surprised. He must have slept heavily for Rumlow had unlocked the door while he was still sleeping, and Bucky hadn't heard. Well, he **_had_** cried himself to sleep, so of course he was exhausted.

No force shield stopped him as he exited the room. He frowned and closed the door behind him before tip toeing down the stairs.

The aroma of fresh breakfast reached his nose, and Bucky couldn't help but sniff it in delight. He rounded the staircase and immediately went down the long hallway to the kitchen which was open. He could hear the sizzling of the frying pan, and he could even see Rumlow cooking up a storm.

"Morning," Rumlow grunted, his back to Bucky as he was busy at the stove. As Bucky observed him, he had an apron on to protect his clothes.

But a part of Bucky was also cautious. He clearly remembered last night's dispute, and he knew that Rumlow did as well. He wasn't sure what he should say. And he wasn't sure how to approach the fact that the architecture terrified him, because last time he had approached it, his handler had been offended.

Finally, Rumlow dumped the hash browns on a plate and came and placed it in front of Bucky. As Barnes looked up in confusion, Brock encouraged, "Go ahead and eat." His voice was still gruff, though, and Bucky could tell that Rumlow was still upset.

Hesitant but cautious, Bucky obeyed. But he couldn't help but stuff his mouth once he got just one mouthful in. He didn't realize how hungry he was. Some part of Rumlow softened, and a soft smile spread on his face. His features became more compassionate. Bucky blushed.

Clearing his throat, Rumlow decided to address him. "About last night..." When Bucky stiffened in fear, Brock held up a reassuring hand. "All is forgiven." With that, the man sighed. "We're still trying to adjust to each other. I know it's difficult, isn't it?"

Bucky wasn't sure how to respond. Finally, he confessed, "I'm scared."

"I can feel that," Rumlow softly reassured him. "But why are you scared?"

"You're trying to brainwash me," Bucky whispered. Rumlow had a confused look on his face. "The Hydra architecture? That's what that's about, isn't it? You're trying to brainwash me!"

A frown was on Brock's face. "I'm not trying to brainwash you," he stated. "Though I think I finally understand now why you're scared and why you reacted the way you did. And perhaps I overreacted as a result."

"Then why is everything in room Hydra?" Bucky accused. "You're trying to brainwash me!"

"No," Rumlow reassured him.

"But... the architecture..."

A sigh escaped Rumlow and he sat down. "I'm not trying to _**brainwash**_ you, Bucky. But I am trying to remind you of who you are, you're heritage. You _**are**_ Hydra."

"But not by choice!"

"Don't cut me off," Rumlow warned. "You **_are_** Hydra and I want you to be comfortable with that fact. I don't want you to be scared of Hydra. That's why that architecture is there, to desensitize you, help you overcome your fears. I don't want you to be afraid of us. We're your friends too. We're your _**family**_. _**Nothing's**_ going to happen to you."

Bucky wasn't sure what to think about it. "It's for therapy," Rumlow admitted. "Someone thought that by desensitizing you, you might be able to relax a little when you're here. Remember how I said that you're making my personnel nervous? Well, we need to do something. You're so tense all the time when you're here, and it can be demoralizing. We thought therapeutically desensitizing you might help you calm down some. Yes, we know that your past with Hydra was traumatic, but we're trying to help you overcome that trauma. We're trying to show that Hydra can be different and that you haven't seen the full Hydra. You haven't seen the good that Hydra can do."

Bucky didn't look like he believed the man. "I'm trying to give you **_choice_** ," Rumlow emphasized. "I want you to know that Hydra can be _**good**_ to you. Just think. Is there something you've always wanted? A house? A car? Some sort of vacation trip? Hydra can **_give_** that to you."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Barnes bitterly looked away.

"None," Rumlow smiled. "Think of all the things that I could give you. That room is just a start. I want you to find peace here."

"Isn't there any other way to desensitize me?" Bucky complained.

"Maybe," Rumlow admitted. "I hadn't thought about that. I can look into it. But I'm not redecorating your room."

"Can I move rooms?" Buck begged, somewhat trepidatious.

Brock shook his head. "No. You are where you're are. You need to overcome your fears, Bucky. It's just architecture. It's not going to hurt you. It's quite safe, I assure you. I made sure that everything that went into your room was nothing that you could use to harm yourself even."

A distressed noise escaped Bucky and Rumlow put a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be all right. I assure you. I'm not going to hurt you."

Bucky looked away. He just wasn't too sure about everything. And while he wasn't one hundred percent sure that the decorating was there to brainwash him, at the same time he realized that he didn't have a choice. But he supposed what he **_could_** do was to try to ignore it.

"It's not harmful," Rumlow reassured him. He smiled some, a gentle and reassuring smile. "It's just a little architecture, that's all."

Bucky snorted in disagreement, but he didn't bring up the situation again. At this point, Rumlow decided to drop it.

The man sighed a little. "Why don't you finish eating," Rumlow encouraged. "I've got a meet up with some doctors, and I'd like you to come along."

Bucky went over to the pan and scooped more hash browns onto his plate. Then he took out the Hydra cereal box with disgust, pulled a bowl out, and poured some of the cereal squids into his bowl. After tasting it, he realized that it tasted like fruit loops. Generously pouring some milk in his bowl that he found in the fridge, he then sat down and began eating at a fast paced rate. "You eat this cereal?" he asked his handler.

Fortunately, Brock wasn't offended this time around. The man shrugged. "I eat more than cereal. I have a complete breakfast. I rotate. Which reminds me," he paused and went over to the microwave, pulling out some sausage and bacon. "You need protein in your diet." And with that, Rumlow scooped some breakfast of his own onto a plate and in a dish and began eating.

Bucky went for seconds. When they were both well along into their breakfast, Bucky decided to ask, "Why do you need me to come with you to go to the doctor?"

Rumlow seemed to contemplate what to say. "Technically it's an appointment for the both of us."

A shyness came over Bucky at this point. He tensed up and his handler sent him comfort. "Oh," was all that he could say.

Gentle compassion came from Rumlow and filled his body up. "Relax, it'll be fine. It's just a standard check up, that's all."

"You seem to be having me go through a lot of those lately, more so than usual," Bucky accused.

After a silent hesitation, Rumlow confirmed carefully, "Yes."

"Why?" Bucky immediately asked. Once more there was silence. "Why?" Bucky asked again.

Rumlow took the time to observe him for a minute. He looked away, thinking carefully through things. Finally, he tried, "You don't remember the last time very much, do you?"

"What are you talking about?" Bucky puzzled. "Of course I do! You had me go through that traumatic procedure, and you wouldn't even tell me why!"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Rumlow shook his head. There was a sadness in his eyes, and then once more, he was very careful. "I'm talking about **_before_** you saw me." When he saw the puzzled look on Bucky's face, he commented softly, "You don't remember that."

"What are you talking about?" Bucky echoed, and for the first time that day, Bucky felt an unusual fearfulness, his gut clenching. He didn't even know why. It was like his body was trying to tell him something but he just didn't remember.

Huffing gently, Brock looked away again, thinking. Then, suddenly, "Striker had you."

Bucky could feel the blood draining from his face. Something inside Bucky whimpered. His gut clenched and he knew it was true. "I don't even remember," Bucky echoed, no emotion in his voice. His body began shaking, and Rumlow got up and came over, gently placing his hand on his Asset's shoulder.

"That's why I didn't want to tell you," Rumlow confessed. "I knew that it would be too much for you to handle."

There was silence for a moment. Then, "And... the procedure?..."

Breathing deeply, Rumlow considered. Bucky couldn't even face him to see how he was feeling and Rumlow was careful not to let any of his own emotions leak through the link to Bucky. But he did send comfort through the link. "They did something to you," Rumlow confessed. "I wasn't sure what, and at first I wasn't sure I should do anything. But you heal at a faster rate than I do, and whatever they did to you was still bothering me even after surgery to repair it, so I decided to have the doctors check it out. They should have checked it out anyway because of the nature of the injury it caused us. It was traumatic for me to. That's why they want us over there. They're there to go over everything with me again. They're going to knock us both out and see if they can do anything about it."

Bucky was shaking tremendously. Brock gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. "It'll be all right," he reassured Bucky.

It took a minute for Bucky to stop shaking about the implications of everything. "What did they do?" he finally got the courage to ask.

Nodding, Rumlow sat down next to him. "They put something inside you," he finally admitted. "We're fortunate that they didn't retrieve you the second time. But, whatever it is, we've gotta take it out of you."

Bucky nodded. That was reasonable, even if it scared Bucky. "I don't remember," he confessed, looking at Rumlow. "I don't remember being abducted by Striker."

"We're not all sure who entirely was involved," Rumlow admitted. "I'm silently having it looked into without trying to attract attention to it. But whatever it was, it had to be an inside job. The technology was Hydra."

"And Wakanda?" Bucky demanded, wondering if there was a connection.

Rumlow shook his head. "If Hydra technology was involved, they would have known. It had to have been somebody else. We're still investigating that too."

Bucky wasn't sure what to think. "I don't like the sound of what's going on."

"Neither do I," Brock confessed. "Why do you think I'm keeping you home? And why do you think that I'm insisting on more training, including espionage? It makes me uncomfortable that Striker can just grab you out of nowhere and you can't even remember it. Something is going on, and I want to make sure that you're safe."

"But I'm the Winter Soldier. How can he have just grabbed me? I would have fought back."

"And he's former Hydra," Rumlow murmured softly. "It's true that Hydra kept your weaknesses under wraps so that others couldn't take advantage of you on your missions, but remember, he's taken that knowledge with him. It appears to have been enough to give him an edge."

Immediately, Bucky was cautious. "Are you saying... that Hydra has ways to... subdue me?"

Rumlow looked him directly in the eyes. "You're dangerous so of course we have to have ways to subdue you. You could overpower us otherwise, well, everyone but your handler. And your commander."

A shudder ran down Bucky's spine. Despite his super strength, he was beginning to realize how helpless he was against Hydra. First code words that made him go under (and those that T'Challa and his team did not catch). And now this. "What else can you do to me without my permission?" Bucky dared to ask. Rumlow did not answer him.

Bucky sent a begging look towards him, but Brock sent him feelings to stop. "You know that we're not going to give that to you. You may as well stop. You're not getting any information." A huff of frustration escaped Bucky. Brock chuckled slightly. "So you've resulted to underhand ways to get what you want?"

"No!" Bucky protested. "I just don't see why you have to treat me this way!"

Laughing a little lightheartedly, but not in malice, Rumlow put an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "You fail to realize how much I care about you. I think you're missing the point. I'm trying to do what I can for you. Still, you're tactics amuse me."

"I just want to be treated better!" Bucky insisted.

"Earn my trust first," Rumlow encouraged.

"Earn mine!"

There was a staring contest then. "You know I can't trust you since I don't have your loyalty. If you want information, then you're going to have to start being open minded. I know that you're not comfortable with Hydra. Not yet, anyways. But there will come a time when you will be." As Bucky shuddered, Rumlow sent comfort through the link. "You're going to have a different experience in Hydra this time - I promise." Then he reassured him by squeezing his shoulder gently.

Bucky closed his eyes. He couldn't help but admit that having his handler squeeze his shoulder felt _**good**_. Some part of Bucky's brain wondered if he was affection starved, but that didn't make sense since Steve gave him plenty of attention and affection. Could it be the bond then? Bucky would do anything to deny the fact that his handler's affections felt good. And at a glance at Rumlow, he knew his handler knew this.

"You're used to the old," Brock murmured softly. "Please give me a chance! You haven't even given me a chance! You've just resisted the whole way! I can show you the world!"

Somehow, and for some reason, Bucky knew that his resistance this time around was fading. His shoulders dropped, and he felt himself relaxing. "Okay," he finally gave in.

Brock squeezed his shoulder in gentle reassurance once more. "Good."

Bucky couldn't help but be relaxed. Brock gently rubbed his shoulders. "It will be all right, you know."

They both got up and headed out. A strange calm was over Bucky. He felt strongly connected to Rumlow. But he was so calm and serene that a part of him felt drugged. With a strange alertness, he surveyed his surroundings, always looking out for Brock.

Brock led him out of the house, out of the city, deep into the facility and through the winding doors. Bucky followed without resistance, though why he didn't know. He was calm as they entered the doctor's office, and Bucky saw the two exam tables. And he remained calm - until the doctors came.

Bucky had been facing the door, quite serene, and when the men in lab coats opened the door he yelped. It was almost like he was shaken awake.

"Relax, Bucky," Brock encouraged him, and a soothing feeling came through the link.

But he couldn't. He whimpered and when the doctors came close to him, he brought his fists up. "Bucky," Brock warned.

The doctor took one look at him and sighed. "Maybe we should sedate him," he mentioned to Rumlow and his colleagues.

"No!" Bucky begged, but Rumlow ordered him through the bond wordlessly to hold still.

The men approached him. They were nervous, he could tell. But he was pretty sure that they weren't as nervous as he was right now.

He felt a prick in his arm and then all was black.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow watched as they gently laid Bucky down on the exam table. A soft sigh escaped him. "He _**was**_ calm," he muttered to himself. When his men looked at him to make sure they could proceed, he nodded his permission and approval. They needed it to do anything to Bucky because Bucky was his now.

As Rumlow watched, he felt Bucky attempt to wake up. Admittedly, Brock was slightly frustrated. The guy just couldn't relax. Now he knew what it was like for Pierce. Well, he already knew what it was like for Pierce because he had Pierce's memories. It was almost like dejá vu.

"Why do you think he's like that?" One of the doctors asked out of nowhere as the man prepared to set up an IV in both of them.

Sadness came over Rumlow. "He doesn't feel safe," Rumlow finally admitted. "He feels threatened."

"Is there anything you can do?" one of the doctors requested. "It's getting hard for us to do our work when he's so resistant."

"Working on it," Rumlow was abrupt. He said no more after that, not willing to talk about it further. It was a tad bit sensitive to him.

He was still figuring things out with the bond. Even Pierce had been when he'd died. All the handlers had been. Simply put, there was so much to learn. But Rumlow had learned that he had an affect on Bucky, and that Bucky had an affect on him. Unfortunately, that meant that the influence wasn't one way. At least, though, Rumlow had learned that by sending large amounts of calmness, if possible, through the link, he could temporarily relax Bucky if he caught Bucky off his guard. It wasn't easy, and it hadn't lasted very long, ending when he saw what frightened him, but it had been enough to lead him without complaint to the doctors.

Honestly, Rumlow didn't know why he had told Bucky what he told him. As much as he liked to say it was misjudgment on his part (and it was true), he knew that he had been personally caught off guard by Bucky, and somehow been convinced to tell him. And he knew that Bucky hadn't done it intentionally. In fact, he knew Bucky wasn't aware that he had done anything at all.

'I'll have to be more careful,' Rumlow thought. 'I can't have my Asset influencing me like this. For the good of Hydra.'

But that didn't mean that he didn't sympathize with Bucky some. He had a fondness for Bucky now that he'd never had before. And it was hard not to have compassion on him when he could literally feel his every emotion. He knew that Bucky was afraid.

But how to stop him from being afraid? Rumlow had tried everything. He had tried comfort and compassion, even sending those feelings through the bond. He had tried reassurance, many times, in fact. And he'd tried reassuring Bucky that things were different now, that there was very little chance of him facing physical punishment. But still, Bucky couldn't seem to break through his fear of Hydra. And Brock needed to figure out how to do that. Maybe a psychologist...

"Vincent," he ordered, and one of the men looked up.

"Yes?" the man obeyed.

"I want you to get Bucky in with the psych team here. We need to do something about all the emotions he's facing. It's hard for him to function around it." 'And me,' he added silently to himself, but he didn't want anyone else to know that their leader was that way.'

"Yes sir," the man obeyed, and Rumlow knew that it would get done.

But the truth was, he really did care about Bucky. He didn't like seeing Bucky so uncomfortable or afraid. That was why, when he'd talked to the psych team regarding Bucky, they'd suggested desensitizing Bucky. And then Brock had Bucky's room decorated as it was. But that wasn't enough. He needed to do more or Bucky was never going to get used to him let alone Hydra. And he was having trouble feeling all of Bucky's emotions. It was distracting. He needed something done fast.

As the team continued to prep them, Vincent, who had blonde streaming hair getting in the man's face asked, "Sir, what do you want us to do? Do you want us to take it out?"

"Please!" Rumlow encouraged. "Anything to get it out. As long as it's safe, that is."

The man nodded. "In that case we'll prep him for surgery, and we'll prep you for an IV."

Rumlow was calm, in a thinking mood as a rubber band was placed around his arm. He felt the IV when it went in him, and when an IV was placed in his Asset. With a deep breath, they injected a sedative, and Rumlow was asleep.

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky groaned as he woke up. With a gasp, he felt the ache on his abdoman. His eyes opened and he scanned his surroundings in a mild panic. He was in a medical bed in a recovery room, and there were probes and sensors all over him. He looked down. He didn't feel restraints on him. He scanned his wrists. Nope, no restraints. With a groan, he let his head plop back on the fluffy pillow that was strangely comfortable.

With shock from the pain, Bucky gasped and lifted his shirt up. He groaned as he saw the nasty scar stretched across his chest and abdomen. They had put him through surgery. The tissue was still healing up. He had probably gone out of surgery not more than ten minutes ago. Brock's injuries would no doubt be stitched, and as he felt his handler active, he couldn't help but think that it was unwise and that the man could reopen _**his**_ wounds. He was an ordinary guy. But with Bucky, there wouldn't be a risk due to the serum.

His handler passed feelings indicating that he wanted Bucky to rest. "Hypocrite," Bucky growled and pulled his shirt down with a yank. What was Brock doing up? Then again, the guy had been shot before and still moved about, and he seemed to survive it. Brock sent no comfort or feelings, but undoubtedly felt Bucky's displeasure. For a moment, the grogginess increased as Bucky shifted around some, trying to get comfortable. He was careful not to agitate the IV in his wrist that was no doubt preventing him from feeling most of the pain.

It took a few minutes, but he heard footsteps. He was still groggy and strangely relaxed after the surgery. Part of him knew that he was drugged, probably for complacency and compliance to make him easy to be managed, but also to help him rest and relax. And, strange to say, he didn't care. But that was probably part of the drugs too.

The door opened. A lab coat walked in. He was a blonde man and he gave a nervous glance at him, but walked confidently forward. Bucky could guess he understood. He was off the restraints, after all. Why they hadn't restrained him, he didn't know. But he was grateful for it. It helped to keep him from panicking. Maybe Rumlow had ordered him off restraints?

Bucky was too tired to react. After checking his pulses and all the instruments, the man said, "I see that you're well?"

Bucky snorted. He was never well. His words were slurred, but he managed to get out, "Where's Brock?"

"On a first name basis?" the man inquired, somewhat surprised, but there was also disapproval there in how Bucky had refereed to his handler. Bucky didn't care about that.

"Where's Brock?" he repeated. He purposely looked the man in the eyes, and the man gulped. "I can feel him up and about. Why isn't he here yet?"

"You're right," the man finally gave in, leaning against one of the cabinets in the room, purposefully leaning away from him. "He was the one that informed us you were awake."

"Stop skirting around the topic!" Bucky snapped. He was still strangely calm though. "Where's Brock?"

The man sighed. "Resting. I suggest you do the same."

After snorting once again, Bucky looked away. "No amount of rest can answer for what you've done to me." There was a bitterness in his tone, and the doctor shifted uncomfortably at how Bucky was speaking.

"We did it for you," the man responded. "You could say we saved your life."

Bucky's head snapped back. "What do you mean?" he demanded. The man didn't look like he wanted to answer. "What do you mean?" Bucky asked again, glaring for extra measure. It wasn't like he could do anything, but if intimidating the guy meant that he got an answer, he was willing to do it.

The man scratched his head, not quite sure how to respond, when Bucky felt his handler get up. Brock was headed right for him. Bucky groaned. Brock was good at redirecting the conversation with him as well as skirting the topic. He was also good at distracting Bucky, which meant that Bucky wasn't going to get an answer once he was around.

It didn't take long to get there, and Bucky could tell that Brock was still in pain. When his handler opened the door, he dismissed the lab coat. "Vincent," he greeted the man. Vincent nodded at Brock and left. Brock closed the door behind Vincent and stared at Bucky. Bucky stared back, but he was challenging in his stare. They both knew that it meant nothing since Bucky could only be obedient to Brock.

Rumlow was silent as he slowly moved and slowly eased himself into one of the chairs beside Bucky. There was silence between them both. But in the end, it was more of a silent conversation that both understood. Brock was basically saying that Bucky shouldn't have asked Vincent his questions, and Bucky was basically saying that he didn't care, he wanted an answer. In the end, Rumlow got what he wanted, though. The man _**always**_ got what he wanted, in Bucky's opinion.

Brock had brought with him some medical reports that he was reading. He was careful to make sure that Bucky couldn't see it. Bucky was pretty sure the reports were about him. Brock was also being very careful with his emotions and facial features to make sure that he didn't give anything away.

In the end, Vincent brought more lab coats back. When Bucky shifted and felt extremely uncomfortable as he knew that an examination was coming, he felt Brock place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Bucky merely glanced at the man. In the end they were silent to each other.

He breathed deeply and harshly as they surrounded him and he was separated from his handler. He couldn't even see the man. No comfort came, despite the begging for it that Bucky sent Brock. He had no idea why sometimes Brock would send the comfort, and other times the man would ignore him.

They reached for him and touched him without asking, without permission. They felt his pulse and then listened to him breathe. But when they asked him to take a a big breathe, Bucky glared at them. They were uncomfortable, but they also ignored him.

Bucky waited until they were done asking him to breathe and were busy writing things down. "I know you sliced me open," he accused. After all, he could still feel the wounds healing.

They intentionally ignored him. Bucky wasn't too happy about it. Why was it that everyone, including Brock, had to be so evasive around him all the time? "What did you do to me?" Bucky finally demanded again firmly after waiting for them to answer and being ignored for some time.

"Bucky," he heard his handler softly reprimand.

Bucky growled a little, in a bad mood. He didn't like this. "Fine!" he snapped.

The doctor's moved closer. Vincent shined a light in his eyes. "You shouldn't treat your handler that way."

Bucky snorted. "Rumlow's only angry because the rum is low." When he heard Rumlow growl in frustration, Bucky couldn't help but laugh a little.

A small smile split Vincent's lips. "See. You can be positive."

Bucky glared. "No one's answering my questions!"

"And no one is going to. You need to get used to that."

Seething in frustration, Bucky couldn't help but glare. "It's _**my**_ body! Why do I have to be violated all the time like this?!"

"Technically, it's your _**handler's**_ body," Vincent corrected, but the correction was gentle. Bucky curled his fists in anger. He hated it. He hated being treated like property, even if they acted all nice about it. "Don't get too frustrated, " Vincent soothed upon seeing his reaction. "You **_do_** belong to him. But he's given you a lot of freedom, a lot more than any of your previous handlers have ever given you. You owe him."

"He enslaved me again," Bucky pointed out with a menacing stare. To Vincent's credit, he ignored him.

"You have a lot of emotions to work out," was all the man would say after that.

There was a sigh from Rumlow, and all the lab coats looked at him. "You can do the rest of the examination later. I want some time alone with him." With a nod, Vincent left.

There was silence, and as Bucky could see his handler again, he stared at him. Rumlow was back to reading again.

Finally, Brock marked the spot in the chart with a bookmark and closed the file. "Say what it is you want to say," he gave permission, not looking at his Asset.

Bucky sighed. "I hate the way they treat me. I'm cattle to them."

At this, Rumlow looked at him. "You intimidate them more than you realize."

"And they treat me like dirt!"

"Not like dirt," Rumlow corrected him gently. "You saw how gentle they were with you. They weren't rough. I watched them. I could even feel it."

"And it was also without my permission," Bucky pointed out, a desperation in his gaze.

"They don't need yours," Rumlow was firm. "You're mine. I'm the one to give permission, not the other way around."

Bucky sighed and dropped it. At this rate, Rumlow would never get it. Rumlow sighed and sat beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What is it you want to know?"

Bucky looked back in confusion. "You're going to answer my questions?"

"What is it you want to know?" was all Rumlow would say. Then he squeezed his shoulder gently.

Bucky glanced at the areas where the surgery had been performed briefly. "What happened?" he demanded.

"You had surgery," was the firm response.

"But what did they do exactly?"

Rumlow seemed to contemplate before responding, his mouth open as he thought before answering, "They removed the device out of you that we found inside of you your previous visit. It was needful operation."

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Recalling their last conversation, Bucky realized that this involved Striker. "And what was it they placed inside of me?"

"A tracking device," Rumlow supplied.

"It's too big a cut to be a tracking device," Bucky glared. He knew that Rumlow had been honest, but he'd also eliminated a lot of information purposefully.

Rumlow considered again. "You're right," he finally admitted. "There were some extra add ons. And we're still processing it and examining it."

Bucky wrinkled his nose at the image that produced in his mind, a random device just fresh out of his body and with his blood all over it still. "You know more than that."

"That's all your getting," was the response and Rumlow was back to reading the file.

Letting out a huff of impatience, Bucky couldn't help but mutter to himself. He wasn't happy with his situation, but he also knew that there was nothing he could do about it. Once Rumlow made up his mind, he wasn't going to change it, at least not easily. Rumlow, for his part, ignored him.

When Bucky couldn't stand it anymore, he decided to bother Rumlow again. Rumlow sensed his intentions and tensed, glaring at him. "I thought you wanted to spend some time alone with me?" Bucky challenged.

Rumlow sighed, putting the file down. "Will you let me read?"

"No," Bucky was quick to answer.

"And if I make you?"

Bucky frowned. "You won't do that," he was certain. "You just wanted them to stop talking to me because you knew I was agitated. You also just wanted some company."

"And look what fine company you're making," Rumlow was sarcastic, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. But a part of him smiled a little. Bucky could see it in his demeanor. He also seemed amused at Bucky's attempts to get information out of him. "Okay, what do you want?"

"Same thing as before," Bucky informed. Rumlow immediately frowned. "Don't!" Bucky begged. "Don't close off to me! Don't you know how frightening this is?!"

"I do," Rumlow admitted. "I can feel your feelings."

"Then please," Bucky asked.

Shaking his head, Rumlow turned to face him. "I'm asking for your trust. Have you ever thought that maybe I'm withholding information for a reason? That maybe I'm doing it with your best interest at heart, that maybe I know that you can't handle the information? I know that you're frightened, Bucky. Part of that is because you don't know what to expect and you're so well out of your element that you don't know how to handle it. And I also know that it's because of what happened to you in the past. You're not in control of the situation and that scares you. But I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You may not trust me yet, but eventually you will."

It struck Bucky how accurate this was. He knew Rumlow could feel his feelings but he'd never realized how much Rumlow had pieced together. "Not knowing won't harm you," Rumlow reassured him. "I'm keeping this from you for your own good. You also need to concentrate on the tasks you've been given, and you need to concentrate on getting better."

"And how can I get better when I can't come to terms with what's happened because no one will tell me what's happened?" Bucky challenged.

"By coming to terms with your emotions," Rumlow firmly answered, indicating that he desired the subject to end. Unfortunately, Bucky was not quite ready for that.

He contemplated what Rumlow said. "I need closure," Bucky finally concluded, not quite ready for Rumlow to shut off. "I need answers so that I can have closure."

"There are lots of ways to have closure, Bucky," Rumlow encouraged. "And I know that everyone here will help with that if I request it. I'm willing to help you have that, but you need to do it on our terms. There are certain topics that are off limits for you."

"Because I'm a slave?" Bucky whispered, forlorn all of a sudden. His eyes drifted around the room, not quite meeting Rumlow's.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and when he finally got the courage to look over, he saw compassion in Rumlow's eyes. "No," the man said. "It's because I'm protecting you. I'm protecting you from the information that would be too painful for you." He sighed, placed the file with his other hand on the counter and took Bucky's right hand, the flesh one, in both of his hands. "All right. Near as far as we can tell, it was more than a tracking device. It appears that they also had medication in there, to be injected who knows when. We're analyzing it to see what it does. Other things in there that might freak you out, a bomb."

The air chilled considerably. Bucky could feel his face draining. For a while he couldn't talk, but when he did, it was a barely audible throaty whisper that was shaky. "A...bomb?"

Rumlow nodded. "Apparently, since they couldn't have you, they were going to kill you. We're not sure, but we think it may have also been a mind control device that could be switched on and off at will. We're analyzing a match with other technology that Hydra has. The problem is, the database has hundreds of trillions, so it might take time to go through. And yes," he answered Bucky's question. "Hydra does indeed have technology like this. But most technology is rarely used. It's only deployed on certain missions. There's a lot that most don't know. Even leaders can't keep track of everything that Hydra has. That's what a database is for."

"So... Striker used Hydra technology... to try to kill me?"

Some part of Rumlow hardened. "He lost you. Well, technically, he never had you to begin with. But I suppose it made sense that this was the next step for him. I guess he was going to use you to kill me at an appropriate time. I think he wanted to spy on me at first. Truth is, it's a good thing we took it out. We didn't know what it was until we got it all out of you. And it's a good thing we did."

Bucky nodded. "Is... everything out?"

"Yes," Rumlow acknowledged. "Trust me, after finding that out, I asked them that several times. They had to reassure me several times that it was."

A shiver ran down Bucky's spine. He had been an inch away from death and he hadn't known it, let alone remembered the incident leading up to it. "We're to be investigating the memory loss soon, but we think we have an answer. We're just not sure so we're not going to assume anything yet. But it would involve more of Hydra technology."

It was hard to pay attention at this point, but Bucky managed to nod. "Anything else," he gulped, not sure how to take this in.

Rumlow shrugged. "The investigation into what happened in Wakanda is still going on. But, we think we have some answers. You know those people who attacked us when I took you from the slave sellers?"

Bucky turned to him, indicating that he was listening. "What about them?"

"It was them." Rumlow let this sink in a bit. Bucky bit his bottom lip, turning away as he thought on this. The mysterious gang was back. "They must not have been happy that we killed them all and I made off with you," was Rumlow's conclusion.

It didn't make sense, though, and yet it did. "But how did they even get into Wakanda?" Bucky turned back, concern on his eyes. "Are you saying that they were there to kidnap me?"

"There are many ways to get into Wakanda, many loopholes," Rumlow confirmed. "You just have to know what they are. Up until this point, I was fairly sure that only Hydra knew how to get in. So the question is, how did they figure it out? Or, are there more leaks, like what happened to you? I'm not going to rule out the possibility of more traitors in Hydra that haven't been found that are revealing sensitive information, including about you. And yes, our intel indicates that they were going to kill Steve and kidnap you. Flawed plan since only Hydra can control you."

"Which may have been revealed," Bucky pointed out.

Rumlow shook his head. "Even if it had, with what we have, they still wouldn't have been able to control you. Only we could."

It was a curious answer, and Bucky knew that there was more that wasn't being said. He knew that there was something implied that Rumlow didn't want him to know the specifics of. Rumlow only wanted him to know vaguely. "But they don't know that," Rumlow smiled.

Thinking on this, Bucky had some questions. "Do you think the attempted kidnapping and what Striker did are linked?"

Rumlow shrugged. "We've put some thought into it. We can't tell one way or another. There are many things indicating that it's not linked, and yet there are many things indicating that it is linked."

It wasn't a real answer, but Bucky knew that it was all they had. Still, though, he was worried. "I don't think I've been watched."

"The city has lots of cameras," Rumlow warned. "Yes, usually you can avoid getting noticed, even in front of Hydra, but Striker is ex Hydra with a team of ex Hydra. They know what to look for. They know your habits since Hydra trained you."

A little shiver ran down Bucky's spine. He didn't like the sound of that.

A compassionate hand rested on his shoulder, Rumlow's other hand still massaging his flesh wrist. "It's nothing to worry about," Rumlow soothed. Then he pushed some strands of hair out of Bucky's eyes. "Why don't you try to rest some more?"

Bucky snorted. "You're not the one that was just told that a bomb was removed out of your chest."

"No," Brock softly agreed. "But now that it's gone, you have nothing to worry about. Bucky, I immediately knew when something had happened to you. I could _**feel**_ it. I'm keeping a closer eye on you from now on. I won't let anything happen to you."

Bucky turned to face him. "Except what you'll allow."

Rumlow was silent. He returned his other hand to continue to rub soothing circles with both hands in his wrists. "Rest now."

Bucky couldn't help it. He obeyed the command. In the end, he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

(A little later)

Bucky growled as he followed Rumlow. He could still feel the hands of the examiners all over him. His skin crawled.

Rumlow was leading him back to the house for more rest. But the man sighed heavily at Bucky's bad mood. "Look, on the bright side they said that you're all healed."

"More examinations," Bucky muttered darkly, not happy. People in the hallways, seeing his bad mood, moved quickly out of the way.

Once they cleared, Rumlow sighed and turned around. "You're making my personnel nervous."

What Bucky really wanted to say was, "I don't care." But because of the bond he was obediently silent. He turned away from Brock, though, and refused to look at him, arms folded. He stiffened when Rumlow stepped up to him.

Sadness was on Rumlow's face. That much he could see out of the corner of his eyes. "I won't hurt you," the man reassured him. "And in all honesty you knew that they had to examine you. You just went through surgery. They had to make sure that you were all right. That's what they're job is. And, hey, they examined me too. You know that. You were there. And did I flinch away from them? No. I let them examine me."

"You gave them permission," Bucky pointed out. "I don't have that luxury anymore. No. They can do anything you say they can do to me without regards to my feelings."

Sighing, Rumlow placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's back to that, huh? Listen, I'm trying to look out for you. I know you're not comfortable with others making the decisions for you, but in all honesty, I wasn't trying to hurt you. I don't understand. Why doesn't being taken care of feel good to you? There are many others that would like to be taken care of."

"But not me," Bucky pointed out. He wasn't sure how to word it to where Rumlow would understand his feelings of captivity. "Can we just go back?" Bucky begged, finally tired. He didn't want to try to think of an explanation.

Rumlow hesitated but nodded. He still knew that something was up, and that Bucky didn't say everything that he wanted to say. "Very well," Rumlow murmured softly and led him back to the house. When they got there, Bucky tiredly took off his shoes, deciding to go barefoot. Rumlow did the same.

Bucky had no idea where he'd picked that up. For some reason, he was picking up some of Rumlow's habits and Rumlow was picking up some of his habits.

He was well aware of Rumlow watching him carefully, looking out for him. "If you want to nap temporarily on the couch, you can," Rumlow offered. This surprised Bucky. He had been fully prepared to face "the room".

Sighing, Bucky shook his head. He'd weighed his options in a matter of seconds. "If I do that, I won't have privacy."

Rumlow nodded. "Do you want to rest in my room?" he offered.

Bucky thought on this. He turned to his handler. "Will you be in and out?"

"Not very often," Rumlow supplied. His eyes were keen to observe Bucky's behavior. "But even if you were in your room, I would still be going in periodically. It wouldn't make a difference. I'm going to be keeping an eye on you, especially since you just had surgery."

Bucky weighed his options again. While he really didn't like his room, at the same time, entering Rumlow's room felt like invading personal space. Then again, Rumlow did that all the time, examinations and all. "Yeah," he concluded. "I think I'll take you up on your offer."

Rumlow chuckled, and Bucky had no doubt that the man knew the real reason. "Very well." To Bucky's annoyance, he led the way, up the stairs and down the twisting corridors. When they reached Rumlow's room, he opened the door and motioned Bucky in. "Enjoy."

Bucky gasped as he entered. It was very light and open, and the suite was about twice the size of Bucky's. Bucky's as large to begin with, larger than the room he had at Steve's house, so it was hard to comprehend anything bigger.

There was a four poster bed, a couple of book cases, unlike his room a patio and sliding door that opened up to a view of the city (the beige curtains were pulled back) and a large desk in the corner. Looking back to his handler for permission, Rumlow nodded, a bit of amusment on his face.

Buck walked into the walk in closet. It was huge, but Rumlow had the same amount of clothing that he had. Interesting. Nothing was Hydra decorated or said Hail Hydra. Bucky snorted. But as he walked into the bathroom that connected to the closet, he was surprised to see a squid tub and a squid mirror. He huffed. Guess there was no getting away from the architecture after all.

As he walked out the second door back into the bedroom, he saw Rumlow closing the shades so that he would have more privacy. "Is the squid tub and squid mirror a fashion statement here?" Bucky sarcastically asked.

Rumlow chuckled some. "There's always Hydra architecture in every house somewhere. This is Hydra."

Bucky groaned. "Figures it would be the bathroom. And figures my suite would be extra loaded with Hydra everything."

Rumlow eyed Bucky, and Bucky felt himself twitching slightly. He really didn't like the staring. Rumlow was examining him like he wasn't quite sure what to make of him. "What?!" he finally asked when Rumlow continued to stare without saying anything.

Rumlow let out a sigh. "Don't talk to me like that."

"You were staring at me!"

Rumlow seemed amused at this. "You know, you seem to complain a lot whenever you're given something. I can always let you stay in your room?" When Bucky vigorously shook his head, Rumlow chuckled some. "Yeah, I didn't think you would want to."

Bucky wasn't sure how to answer that. He choose silence. Perhaps Rumlow must have thought it was a wise choice because he nodded his head. "Right." The man wiped his hands on his pants and began giving him the final instructions. "I don't mind if you sleep in my bed. Don't worry about the sheets. I'll make the bed when you're done. I just want you to rest right now. You have the bathroom, if you need it. You have the closet, but I don't know why you'd need it. Don't ruin anything of mine. Some of this architecture was expensive. Take care of my stuff and I'll take care of you.

"The door will be locked off while you rest and you won't be able to go out to the patio. There will be a shield all around this room, and you won't be able to go outside. If you want to see the view of the patio, I'll show you later, after your rested. And if you need anything, just send me some emotions. I'll be more than able to pick that up."

Bucky nodded, understanding the instructions. With that, Rumlow nodded kindly at him and left. The door locked, and the force field came up. Bucky was still standing there.

He couldn't help but feel somewhat sad. 'So this is what it's going to be like, Brock?' he thought to himself sadly. Sighing, he went over to the bed and sat on it. The sheets were cool and soft to the touch. Plopping down on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling.

He hadn't realized how tired he actually was until that moment. He felt the weight of sleep pulling at his conscious mind, and before he could go under, Bucky purposefully snuggled under the covers. Getting comfortable, he let sleep take a hold of him.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow relaxed as he felt his Asset fall asleep. Bucky seemed peaceful now that he was deep under. Brock couldn't help but let out a sigh. Sometimes the man drained him.

Turning back to the medical file from earlier, he picked it up and turned back to the page he was previously on. The medical terms didn't really phase him, and he read dispassionately about how they'd removed the bomb from Bucky.

The examinations had revealed more than a bomb and tracker. It had revealed several chemical compounds which they were running against a database of known Hydra creations. But more than that, it had revealed something disturbing that he'd barely managed to keep from Bucky: the device had the capability to paralyze Bucky at any moment. In essence, they would be able to fetch him whenever they wanted.

A sad emotion crept over Rumlow. The truth was, he felt sorry for Bucky. The poor man was a pawn in the game of many others, including his own. In fact, he could feel the toll this was taking on his friend.

'Friend,' Rumlow thought. 'That's what I really want Bucky to call me.'

Sighing, he put the file down. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Yes, Mr. Rumlow?" someone answered immediately.

"How are we for that appointment this afternoon?" he inquired, walking around his house to look out the window.

"We're on. Getting the Asset to cooperate in another thing."

"Good," Brock nodded. He felt very satisfied. "Leave that to me. I'll just explain some things to him. If I have to order it through the bond, then I will, even if it's not ideal. Tell me, how soon can we have him medicated?"

"You mean the psychotics? Other than what he's on?" the voice chuckled somewhat humorlessly. "I'll have to evaluate him first. I know that you don't really want to put him on anything additional, and I know you want him to be weaned off of everything as soon as possible, but this is just a start until we can get him shaped up."

"Mmm," Brock grunted. His mind was elsewhere, though, considering how his Asset was no doubt going to react and feel about this. But he just had to get him over the cliff, and then maybe Bucky wouldn't be so unreasonable anymore. Then, maybe, he could get Bucky off the meds. But as to how to convince Bucky to naturally join Hydra, that he was still working on. And the truth was, he didn't have a clue. The only thing he could come up with was to continue to be gentle to Bucky and give the man some time.

"Oh, sir?" the man continued, and Brock grunted again. "You're making the right decision. 'Bucky' is never going to calm down without any outside help. And he's always going to be closed minded without some medication. Later we can wean him off of it when he starts cooperating and seeing the bigger picture. But for now, we need him malleable."

"I agree," Rumlow grimly replied. "But don't forget, I want his conversion legitimate. I don't want it forced. I want him a willing Hydra operative."

"I know that you do," the man chuckled. There was a sigh of relief. "And we're going to make it that way," the man promised. "Trust me, me and my team have got this covered."

"I know that you do, Charles," Rumlow smiled. It was like there was a secret joke between him and the man. "If you can convince the senator of Wisconsin that Hydra is the way to go, then I know that you've got this." His mind went to their newest highest recruit in the government that Charles had worked on, someone who was so firmly against Hydra before but was now on their side with firm commitment. And what's more, the man had convinced her without any harsh or mild brainwashing. He had been gentle in their way to convince her, and Rumlow had been really pleased with the work. It opened up possibilities for Hydra and possibilities for him.

"He'll come around," the man reassured him. "Everyone has a reason for joining. We just have to figure out his reason."

Rumlow grunted. "Talk to you later," he assured the man.

The man chuckled again. "Talk to you later."

They both hung up.

(Bucky Point of View)

"You what!" Bucky shouted, seated on the bed. Rumlow had his arms folded, staring compassionately at him.

"I made an appointment for you with the psych team," Rumlow firmly repeated. When Bucky started shivering, he stepped forward softly and put a hand on both of Bucky's shoulders. "It's just an initial appointment. You have a whole team, a therapist, a psych evaluator, a psychiatrist, a psychologist, all of whom were willing to take time out of their busy day just to see you."

Bucky shook his head, terrified. "No!"

Sighing, Rumlow sat down on the bed beside him. "We have to do something, Bucky. You're making my personnel nervous, and you are always on edge. You have a lot of emotions to work through. Hydra has techniques and advanced capabilities that the outside world doesn't have, more than enough to rival Wakanda. I want you to do this. I don't want you to suffer all the time from all the fright you have."

Bucky curled his fists. Somehow it sounded like a bad idea to him. "Do I have a choice?" Bucky asked bitterly.

A soft hand was placed on his shoulder. "No," Rumlow gently informed him. "I'm doing this for your good, Bucky. You just need a little push to get better. I'm not doing this to harm you."

"I don't know about that," Bucky breathed. He still didn't know what he was about to face and it made his gut clench. "Hydra has always had ulterior motives with everything."

"And me?" Rumlow asked, causing Bucky to perk up. "You forget, Hydra is under new management."

How was he supposed to address the fact that he didn't like Brock's management? "Why do you think that I would do this to harm you?" Rumlow inquired softly. "Don't you want to feel better? Don't you want to go through life without pain, without all the trauma of the past? Don't you want to start over?"

Breathing deeply, Bucky answered, "It doesn't really matter. I can't change anything, I get that. But answer me one thing, will it hurt?"

His gut clenched further as he waited for the answer. This was one thing about Hydra that always terrified him.

Rumlow shook his head. "No," he answered. "I won't let them or anyone do that to you. You know that."

"And since when can you control them?" Bucky challenged.

Rumlow huffed softly. "They're loyal to me. I know that they won't do anything to you without permission and they won't do anything to you that I won't approve of. There are limits that I've placed on them, and they know those limits. They've agreed to them. I swear, they won't hurt you. You don't have anything to worry about."

Sighing and groaning Bucky got up. Rumlow stood up and led the way.

The truth was, Bucky was worried about his first appointment. He had no idea what to expect. Most of his experiences with people in psychology involved messing with his head, whether or not they were Hydra. Even the evaluations done by people as Steve carefully watched had been excruciating painful on his mental state. There was a reason he was approaching this with wariness and caution.

As they approached the facility and entered into the hallways of the psychological section, Bucky tensed and Rumlow sent comfort through the link. "Relax," he urged him. "You're going to be okay."

Groaning, Bucky nervously entered the first office. It was a little crowded, none the less, everyone let Bucky sit on the couch. There were five people of the team there total. Then there was Rumlow and Bucky.

The man with blonde hair and green eyes smiled at him. He was wearing a lab coat, and it made Bucky nervous. "I hope you don't mind," he addressed Bucky. "But for this appointment we're going to have your handler sit in. Part of it is for information for his sake, but also so that you can have some emotional support if you need it."

"Him, emotional support?" Bucky scoffed. Rumlow sat beside him and nudged him in the shoulder gently. "What!" Bucky exclaimed.

"You know I comfort you," Brock murmured softly. One of the team closed the door and Bucky couldn't help but gulp. Rumlow put his left arm around him and hugged Bucky gently. "It'll be all right," he comforted the Winter Soldier.

Bucky took a look around the room. He had to face it in acceptance. There was no way out of this.

The lead psychologist nodded.

"Let's begin."

 **Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5: Evaluation

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Five: Evaluation

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky shivered and Rumlow's arms around him squeezed tighter. "Well," the team leader said. "Why don't we all introduce ourselves so that we can make Bucky comfortable, the patient and his handler excepted? I'll start. I'm Andrew. I'll be your evaluator." The man smiled at him.

A man with red cropped hair, and brown eyes, also in a lab coat smiled at Bucky. "Charles," the man greeted him in his deep booming voice. "I'll be your psychiatrist."

A woman with red hair and brown eyes, also in a lab coat smiled to Bucky. "Luna," she greeted. Then she nudged Charles. "This geek's brother. We often go in with patients together to treat at the same time. I'll be your psychologist."

"James," the next guy greeted. "We share the same first name!" Bucky couldn't help but shiver. The lab coat that was James chuckled at him. He scratched his bald head. "No need to be nervous. I'll be your therapist. Psychotherapist to be exact."

"And I'm Tom," the other bald guy that was slender acknowledged, bringing a pen out of his lab coat. "I'm your behavioral management specialist, and I also deal with helping others manage their situations and their day to day living when they deal with severe mental and emotional problems. In fact, I've dealt with a number of PTSD patients, which we we see from the reports Hydra stole that you have. So no worries there. I can help you adjust."

Bucky stared back and nodded. He was still nervous. He didn't like the thought of having a team working on him, or against him as he liked to call it. But as the last greeting was done, they seemed to move onto more business. "So," Charles started. And he took out some paper out of the desk where he was at and handed it to Bucky's handler. "Consent for treatment is written on there, as well as other details. It should be filled out before we get started."

Rumlow accepted the forms and unwound his arms from around Bucky's shoulders. "No!" Bucky begged, eyes wide. But Rumlow was already filling out and signing the consent form. He handed it back to Charles and then wound his arm around Bucky again.

"Okay, then," Charles accepted the form, quickly skimming through to make sure that it was filled out to his satisfaction. Then he passed it to Luna to file away. "So since it's the first time and Mr. Rumlow normally won't be in here for subsequent appointments, I was hoping to go through what some of our options are in regards to treatment. The team has thoroughly reviewed the case and your requests, Mr. Rumlow, and from that we've put together a plan. Therapy, obviously, will be in there. Tom said he's willing to do some case management and some integration methods to help Bucky in his day to day living and to adjust here.

"Luna wants to spend some time in with the therapy sessions, but she also has some of her own ideas, including hypnotherapy as possibility as well as some regression therapy for the PTSD. She thinks EMDR, some theraputic desensitization, perhaps some form of sensory deprivation, and perhaps some biofeedback training to start with. But we'll start small. Andrew will evaluate Bucky every month to coordinate the team and lead us as we discuss progress we'd like to make. And, of course, I'll help Bucky by prescribing some medications and adjusting them accordingly."

Bucky's eyes flashed in anger. There was no way he was going on medication. He knew that they'd already drugged him up each visit. He was not doing any more. "No," he defiantly responded.

Rumlow shrugged. "Sounds good," he suggested.

Bucky's mouth dropped. Rumlow had just agreed to everything. Sending feelings of protest to his handler, he received nothing back. But Rumlow sighed. "Just cooperate, Bucky. We know that you're uncomfortable. But this is for your own good."

Whimpering slightly, Bucky turned back to the team. "We'll start small," Charles reassured him. "Helping you adjust is a big step. But it's a step we must take. Given time, I think you'll get to know the team really well."

"I don't want this!" Bucky begged. He turned to his handler with pleading eyes. Rumlow covered his face in exasperation. "Don't force this on me!"

"You're here because you need help," Rumlow firmly replied. "And help you're going to get."

Bucky was terrified. But one look at the team and he knew immediately that his pleas were going to be in vain. They wouldn't listen. They were firm that they were going to 'fix' him their way. And so, Bucky couldn't help but plead one more time. When he saw that they weren't going to deviate, he gave up. Bowing his head, he looked down in dejection.

"Onto other business," Charles announced and he pulled out more papers and handed them to Rumlow. "This is the patient plan that we've drafted. Please check to make sure that it's according to your satisfaction. If so, please sign it."

Bucky didn't pay attention as Rumlow skimmed through it and signed it. He was well aware that he didn't have any choice in the matter. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Rumlow hand it back.

"Thank you," Charles accepted it back. "And that leaves us to go through the patient plan with _**you**_ , Bucky."

Bucky couldn't help but scoff. "You're letting _**me**_ hear the plan?"

"Yes," Charles confirmed. "You _**are**_ the patient."

"A patient who has no choice."

"I wouldn't know about that," Charles counteracted mysteriously. "It's true that Mr. Rumlow has signed and given consent to treatment. However, you still have many options to choose from. If one thing doesn't work, you can always pick another. And we'll work with you. All we ask for in return is your cooperation."

Bucky snorted in disdain. "In essence I get to choose how I get brainwashed?"

"Not brainwashed," Luna countered him. "These treatments exist in the outside world. Hydra merely has more knowledge and more advanced techniques in regards to them. We also have additional techniques the outside world doesn't have, it's true, but Rumlow has not currently signed or given permission to use them, nor has the treatment team decided that they're worth trying right now. Maybe in the future, but we'd like you to get to know us better and be more comfortable first before we even suggest using something like that."

Bucky eyed the team warily. "It's done in the outside world?" he tried the confirm.

They nodded and Andrew stepped in. "It's true that some of them are a bit specialized, like what Luna does, but you will find this outside of Hydra as part of mainstream medicine. It's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing that could brainwash me?" Bucky wanted to make sure.

Andrew shook his head. "If we were to try to brainwash you, we'd be using entirely different techniques altogether. Besides, our team doesn't deal with brainwashing - it never has. We often help a lot of Hydra personnel that have gone through difficult missions and need help getting on their feet again. Did you know that Mr. Rumlow was once a patient of our team?"

Bucky's mouth dropped. He had no idea. And he was starting to get more comfortable by the second, strangely enough. He turned to his handler in shock. "What?"

Rumlow smiled softly at him. "It was a mission I did under Pierce, one of my first as a brand new officer. We'd had you for about ten years by then. I wasn't prepared for all of the violence that I saw. You could say that I was... shocked for a while. I still can never forget that mission."

"Yes," Andrew confirmed. "Hydra does care about it's members. It took a while, but we were able to get Mr. Rumlow to a point where he could function again."

Bucky was about to ask what exactly had happened and what that mission had been about when he remembered that it was private information that his handler wasn't likely to share with him. It was probably personal as well.

While Bucky was still wary, he was relieved that the team didn't deal with brainwashing, or hopefully have those skills. He still wasn't sure about everything, but as he weighed his options and the fact that he didn't have a choice anyways, he realized that maybe it might be a good idea to utilize the team for now so that he could think clearer. Then it might enable him to find a way out of things. Besides, they said they were going to let him choose the treatments, right?

"I get to choose treatments?" Bucky asked suspiciously to confirm.

Charles nodded. "For the most part. It's more like you'll be part of the decision to choose treatments." Bucky grimaced at that but listened as Charles continued. "It would take something dramatic, such as an emergency, for the team and Mr. Rumlow to decide to do something without involving you in the decision."

But there was one more piece of information that Bucky wanted to know, something that was bothering him. "ECT... isn't on the list of options... is it?"

The whole team frowned. "Electric Convulsion Therapy?" Luna asked. "It has it's merits, under controlled settings. But that's not something we deal with. That would require a recommendation from the team, and you'd need an anesthesiologist. It's an entire procedure, like surgery is."

Bucky shivered. "But mind wiping..."

"Is something completely different from ECT," Luna confirmed. "You were wide awake, for the most part, with mind wiping, whereas patients nowadays are sedated for ECT procedures, even in Hydra. But the truth is, ECT is a last resort, even in Hydra. That wasn't the case with mind wiping, which is a regular procedure performed on a person. There's usually a set number of ECT procedures, and that's it. Then you need a doctor's referral for more. But like I said, it's rarely done, both in and out of Hydra. And we don't deal with or give referrals for mind wiping on our team. ECT on occasion, when everything else has failed."

"How about lobotomy?" Bucky warily requested.

"Lobotomy would only be done under very controlled circumstances," Luna replied. "It's not an ideal treatment. It would also require a referral as it's surgery. And another team would have to review it before it could even be done to you, unless you're handler intervenes and says he wants it done." Bucky gulped and glanced at Brock. "And for the record, Mr. Rumlow has put in writing that it's not something to be even considered at this time. The truth is, we'd consider ECT before we ever considered a lobotomy."

Bucky wasn't sure he was comfortable with the fact that his handler could override everything. As if sensing his thoughts, Luna provided, "Mr. Rumlow counsels closely with us. It would be unlike him to do anything without counsel."

"But ECT could still be done?" Bucky warily asked. And, the truth was, he'd rather Rumlow at least counsel with _**him**_ first.

"Potentially," Luna admitted. "But Mr. Rumlow has stated that in the rare instance we do recommend it, that he be able to counsel with another team before giving permission, and it's his right to do so. Even if you want a second opinion at any time, I'm sure that in most instances your handler would be willing to provide you with a second team." She hesitated, and then added, as if sensing his inner turmoil and question, "You should know that Mr. Rumlow **_does_** consider your feelings when making a decision."

"I don't want a second team," Bucky muttered darkly and looked down. Rumlow squeezed him gently. And Bucky wasn't sure how to take the knowledge that Rumlow took his feelings into account. It sure didn't feel that way. But Rumlow sent a lot of comfort through the link, almost reassuring him that he did. Bucky, though still not sure, let it go.

"It's nothing to worry about," Rumlow murmured softly. "You heard them. It's rare that anything of the such is recommended, and I'm pretty sure we can figure something out. We're patient. We know that it can take years to heal."

"I don't want it done," Bucky gulped. He turned with fear to face his handler. "Please don't ever do that to me!"

"I don't think it will come to that," Rumlow reassured him. "I don't want it done to you either if it can be helped."

Letting out a sigh, Bucky tried to relax some. While it wasn't a reassurance that it would never happen, he tried to rely on the fact that the likelihood of it happening was remarkably low. He hoped the percentages were in his favor.

"Brock," Bucky moaned, shaking slightly. He leaned into his handler further.

"Yes?" Brock responded.

"How long is this going to happen for?" He knew he didn't need to explain further for his handler to pick up on what he was talking about.

"Until you're well," Rumlow reassured him.

"And will it take years?" was his next question.

"Maybe."

"It didn't take your handler very long," Luna pointed out. "Like I said, we have some rather advanced capabilities. I suspect a few months at most."

Bucky shivered. "Great." But he didn't feel great about it. He felt almost like he was dying.

"You're not dying," Rumlow squeezed his shoulder and reassured him, having felt his feelings, as always. "I promise, you'll feel better soon."

Bucky leaned in more, tearful, no enthusiasm in his eyes. "Great."

The team sighed.

(Some time later)

Bucky was silent as he waited in Rumlow's office. The man had led him there next to keep him out of trouble, and since the personnel weren't quite comfortable around him.

Brock was currently seated around the desk, paperwork to be filled out all around him. "I've got some news for you," he finally managed to announce. Bucky looked up in depression. To him, news was never good. Rumlow seemed to ignore this. "Remember Jack? Jack Rollins? After project Insight he was reassigned by Striker. A lot of the strike team was reassigned and they were broken up. And others didn't survive the incident. But Jack's been really supportive of me, and he's completed the assignment I've given him. He's coming back, and he's a bit curious to see you. I've given the go ahead."

"Why is he curious?" Bucky was cautious. He had a vague image of the man, and he vaguely recalled that Rollins and Rumlow had been close friends.

Rumlow chuckled as if it should have been obvious. "You're different now. Word has gotten around about that. He's curious about you. He's only known the silent you."

"And why are you letting him see me?" Bucky replied, and though he wanted to challenge it, because of the bond he couldn't quite challenge it.

Huffing in amusement, Rumlow shook his head. "I know he knows how to handle you. He was part of your training team once, you know." When Bucky shivered as he knew it was the torture to get him to cooperate with other members of Hydra that Rumlow was referring to, Rumlow sighed. "It's all right, you know. He won't do anything without my permission, and I'm not giving permission for _**that**_."

"Do others want it to be done, though?" was Bucky's next thoughts.

Rumlow sighed. "They know that the situation has changed tremendously because of the bonding. And Jack knows that too. But the truth is, I just want him to keep you company, keep you out of trouble while you're here. I don't want to have to track you and your behavior all the time. Besides, he can show you around Hydra a little more, help you become more comfortable here."

"I'm not sure he's company I'd like," Bucky looked away.

Rumlow eyed him, his expression stating that he didn't like Bucky's stubbornness. "Well, it is what it is, and you're going to have to get used to it. I trust him, and I know that he can be a good influence for you. If you have a problem with him, take it up with him. But don't get physical, or too verbal about it. I don't want to scare the personnel."

Bucky growled but nodded his head. He got it. No yelling at Rollins for the past. "Start over," Rumlow encouraged him. "You two have a lot more in common than you realize. Get to know him better."

"I doubt that," Bucky gritted his teeth. But he had no choice but to be obedient. In the end the odds were against him, and they both knew that.

Rumlow sighed, exasperated.

It took a couple of hours, but finally Jack reported in to Rumlow. Bucky stiffened when he saw Jack open the door. Jack ignored him and walked right up to Rumlow. "Sir."

Rumlow stood up in pleasure and embraced Jack. "Long time no see!" Both men chuckled and patted each other on the back.

Jack pulled away first and then looked at Bucky. Bucky narrowed his eyes. "I see you've got your hands full," Jack commented, and Bucky looked away in anger.

"Yes," was Rumlow's wary response. He too was watching Bucky. Then he turned to Rollins. "I apologize for assigning you on babysitting duty." Bucky gritted his teeth at the term babysitting but Rumlow ignored it. In the end, they both knew that that was what it really was.

"No you don't!" Jack chuckled, but his eyes curiously wandered to Bucky again. "Should I use a team?"

"If you so desire," Brock instructed. "But make him comfortable. Help him to relax and get to know you better. Help him become more comfortable around here and with Hydra."

Jack chuckled nervously and warily looked at Bucky. "That's quite a difficult command you've given," he observed Bucky.

"I know," was the response.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Brock stood up. "Time to leave," he informed Bucky. Sighing, Bucky got up and followed Jack out the door.

The two walked side by side in silence. "So, what do you want to do?" Jack asked.

Bucky curled his fists in anger. "Leave me alone."

"Can't," Jack chuckled. "I'm under orders, remember?"

"I don't care."

"You don't care what you're handler has to say?" Jack challenged back. Bucky looked away and stopped walking, in complete silence.

The silence lasted for a few minutes. "Why would he care about me? He doesn't care about me," was all Bucky could answer, in anger.

Jack shook his head in disdain. "You have no idea, do you?" The man sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. Bucky shrugged it off.

"Don't touch me!" Bucky snapped.

Jack sighed again, this time in exasperation. "I'll give you a tour," he suggested.

"No," Bucky growled.

"Fine!" Jack snapped, irritable now. Evidently Bucky was now grating on his nerves. "Follow me," he ordered. And Bucky reluctantly followed. Through the bond, his handler had felt his agitation and, making assumptions, had ordered him through the bond with his feelings to be obedient to Jack.

Bucky growled as the forced obedience moved upon him. He trailed behind Rollins, not sure about the situation. "Where are we going?" Bucky demanded.

There was silence for a little bit. "You'll see," Jack was firm and direct, and the cordial attitude was gone. Bucky shivered. Now he was hoping that he hadn't burned bridges. Rumlow sent feelings of relaxation to him, and Bucky attached onto it. He desperately needed it. Then his handler sent feelings that he had brought this on himself. Bucky desperately latched onto the feelings of relaxation that followed.

It turns out that Rollins had led him to the gym. Bucky looked around. There were weights in the corner, along with small, one pound sand bags. In the gym court itself there was a team of men and women playing basketball. It appeared to be men against women, and the women were winning. One of the woman got a shot in the hoop and the men groaned. She laughed and high fived her other players.

Rollins turned to him. "I think you remember your training in the gym well?" Bucky shivered but didn't say anything. Was Rollins going to train with him? He hoped not. Shaking his head, Rollins turned away and began watching the team. "They're almost done. Then we'll get started."

"Get started with what?" Bucky demanded in apprehension. He was beginning to be afraid of the man. Rumlow would not be pleased if he harmed the man, even accidentally. He'd get in a lot of trouble for that.

But Rollins remained silent. They watched the team for ten more minutes, Bucky tense the whole time, and then the team finally showered and left.

It was just them now. Rollins moved onto the mat. He motioned for Bucky to do the same. Then the man took off his tactical gear. He placed his guns in the corner and his other weapons to the side. Bucky, who had none, just watched him.

"You play basketball?" Rollins raised an eyebrow with the question.

Bucky was stunned was **_this_** all they were going to do? His mouth gaped open in shock. Rollins chuckled. "What? You thought I'd physically beat your or something? You thought I'd train you how to fight? Is that all I am to you?"

Bucky shook his head to clear it. Evidently Jack took that as his answer. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he challenged.

"I don't know," Bucky replied, moving onto the mat. He was still uncertain. "No beatings?"

Rollins frowned. "Well, I will beat you... by scoring the most!" The man then grinned in earnestness, and Bucky couldn't help but loosen up and chuckle. Some part of him appreciated a challenge, and he could feel his competitive side taking over. "I mean, it's unfair to you, really. I've had a lot of practice the past few days and you haven't," the man playfully mocked, and Bucky folded his arms, accepting the challenge.

Bucky shook his head. Rollins was going to the closet and getting a basketball out. "In your dreams!" Buck shouted back. He moved to center position, waiting as Rollins brought the basket ball out, bouncing it as he went. "You know, this really isn't fair to you," Bucky countered. "I mean, I'm a super soldier and all that. I can outdo you any time."

"Oh yeah?" Rollins bounced the ball to him, now in center position.

"Yeah," and Bucky bounced the ball back.

Rollins chuckled again. "Well, I've got news for you, kid. It's not about how strong or fast you are, it's about skill." And with that, he dribbled around Bucky.

Bucky was in shock; he hadn't been expecting Rollins to do that. But it didn't take him long to get out of that shock and catch up to Rollins. The man responded by turning around to shield the ball from Bucky. Bucky laughed and easily got around him, stealing the ball. "Wait!" the man shouted as he dribbled it to the far court, taking a shot as Rollins tried to catch up.

"All about skill, huh?" Bucky turned back, having retrieved the ball, spinning it on his metal finger. "I think it's about the serum."

Rollins was panting by the time he caught up to him. "Okay, this is an unfair advantage."

Bucky grinned in challenge. "You can say that again."

"So how about," Rollins proposed. "I get a team in here, just us and you? Even the odds?"

Bucky snorted, mockingly becoming superior. "What? I thought you could take me on? I thought that it was just you and me? Are you finally admitting you can't handle it?"

Rollins groaned. "Don't be that way!" he begged. "Just think about it, you aren't coming from skill. You're coming from serum. How is that fair? How are you supposed to find how skilled you actually are?"

"I'm not skilled, am I?" And Bucky spun the ball on his metal finger again for emphasis, making it spin much longer than before. "Tell me, do you have a metal arm? Do you know how hard it is to spin a ball on a smooth surface as opposed to a finger, which has friction?"

"Come on, man!" Rollins begged. "I'm not talking about tricks. I'm talking about basketball skills."

Bucky chuckled, not giving up. "This is a basketball skill." And with that, he dribbled the ball to Rollins who dribbled it back to him. "Ready to go again?"

"You're so unfair!" Rollins growled, and Bucky chuckled. He tossed the ball and made the hoop from exactly where he was at with such perfection and ease. "Really unfair," Rollins watched.

"You act like we didn't have basketball back in the day," Bucky chuckled, and Rollins raised his eyebrows in surprise.

They continued playing and teasing each other around for about an hour, and to Bucky's surprise he found that he was beginning to enjoy himself. He felt a bond of friendship beginning to develop with Rollins, and Rollins was good to him, kind even, despite losing due to lack of serum. The man even gave Bucky a few pointers to refine his techniques a number of times despite the fact that it made him loose more. And Rollins was good natured to him.

Bucky was disappointed when they were done. "See?" Rollins told him, putting the basketball away. "We can have fun here."

"Why stop now?" Bucky complained.

Rollins sighed. "Because I don't have your physical capacity, and it's not fair as it is. I'm tired, Bucky."

Bucky hadn't even considered this. "Oh."

Things were awkward for a little bit, and Rollins wiped his hands on his pants before replacing his gear. "It's getting late in the day. I should get you back to Brock."

Bucky nodded and followed him out. They were silent for a bit on the way over. Then, Rollins brought up, "You know, you can be friends with us. You can be friends with Brock to. I know you don't see eye to eye with us, but a lot of people are friends that don't see eye to eye."

In all honesty, Bucky didn't know what to say. He couldn't deny the fact that hanging out had felt good. Rollins stopped as they were in front of the door. He motioned Bucky in, and then followed the Asset inside.

Rumlow was standing up, a drink of water in his hands. He held out a glass to both Rollins and Bucky, and they both took it gratefully. Brock smiled at Bucky. "How was it?" he asked Rollins.

Rollins grimaced. "The serum gives him an unfair advantage."

Bucky laughed. "I thought it was all in the skill?" he playfully mocked.

Rollins chuckled then took another gulp, setting the water down afterwords. "I've got to retire for the night, and I've got to shower."

"You do that," Brock dismissed him. "You earned it."

Rollins left and things were suddenly silent between Bucky and his handler. It was a bit awkward for Bucky.

Then, finally, Brock addressed him. "I see you had fun here. See? It's not that bad."

Bucky's mouth was open, trying to say something, but he didn't quite know what to say. He still didn't like Hydra, but he couldn't deny that he'd had _**fun**_. In fact, it was the first fun that he'd ever had in Hydra before.

Brock set his cup down and glanced up. "Try to keep an open mind," he encouraged Bucky. "Remember, Hydra is under new management. And you haven't seen all of what Hydra can be and is, anyways." With that he left things as it was, giving Bucky food for thought.

Brock took Bucky home and Bucky immediately hit the showers. His pajamas, though not his favorite design, were surprisingly warm and comfortable. As he lay on the bed, looking up and the squid ceiling, he thought on the day. Today was his first full day back in Hydra since he'd only had a part day the previous day and at the very tale end of the day at that. Rumlow had seemed so insistent on making him comfortable, and his experiences kept becoming more and more different from the Hydra he knew under Pierce and his other handlers. Part of him was wondering what he even thought about everything anymore. He wasn't sure what his conclusions about Hydra were.

To his surprise, his handler knocked on the door first instead of just barging straight in. Rumlow was freshly showered as well. "How are you?" Rumlow asked and eased himself to sit on the bed beside Bucky.

Bucky wiggled his toes which were under the sheets. He had no more scars from the surgery. It had healed several hours ago. And then there was the time that he'd spent with Rollins. "I'm not sure," he finally admitted, deep in thought. Rumlow's words were still coursing through his mind.

Rumlow nodded. "Roller coaster of a day, wasn't it?" Bucky nodded, glancing at his handler. Strange to say, he was starting to become more and more comfortable around Rumlow. Rumlow seemed to be in thought and sighed.

After a few moments of silence, Rumlow took a deep breath. "Look, there was something I was wanting to address with you."

"What is it?" Bucky asked and was surprised when he didn't feel wary. In fact, he was completely comfortable.

"Us," Rumlow breathed. "I know, I know. Technically we're handler and Asset. But as you saw with Rollins, you can have friends in Hydra. I know that you saw it. I want you as a friend, Bucky. I've wanted that for some time. And what's more, we're family. Since Hydra is your family, and especially since we're handler and Asset, we're family. I want you as a _**brother**_ , Bucky. But I know it might take more time to reach the last one," Rumlow tagged on the last bit.

Bucky was stunned. He wasn't sure what to say. Rumlow shook his knee a little. "So what do you say?" he encouraged. "Can we at least be friends?"

Bucky opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to respond or what he wanted. "I... I don't... I don't know if I can," he finally got out.

Rumlow's face fell, but he didn't lash out at Bucky for it. He nodded in acceptance. Some part of Bucky didn't like seeing Rumlow so downcast like that. "Give me time!" Bucky begged, reaching out.

Rumlow took his flesh hand in his and began rubbing soothing circles in his wrists. "I can do that," he promised.

"It's not that I don't want to be friends," Bucky admitted, trying to explain things. "It's just... well... it's a lot to take in. You have to understand our history, and my history with Hydra. You did enslave me after all."

Rumlow nodded.

"I know you're making efforts," Bucky put in, and he knew it was true. "But, maybe, we can take it slow?"

A smile spread across Rumlow's face. "I can do that." He sighed and then placed Bucky's wrist down. "We can even spend some time together, like you and Jack did. It doesn't always have to be business."

Somehow, that made Bucky feel good and he smiled shyly. He still wasn't sure what to expect in a friendship with Rumlow, especially since the man was his handler, but it was a start. And spending time together, rather than training, felt good and appealed to Bucky. He nodded. "Yeah."

"Do keep in mind that we both still have our duties, though," Rumlow was gentle in his reminder. "And we both have our respective places in Hydra and in the bond."

Some part of Bucky's face fell. There was always that. "Yeah."

"But that doesn't mean that we can't be friends," Rumlow murmured softly. He got up, letting Bucky think about this.

With a sigh, Bucky turned around. The door closed again, locking, the force field coming up. It must have been standard protocol.

Bucky wasn't sure what to make of everything. There might be some advantages to being friends with Rumlow, even brothers. Greater leniency, for one. And the truth was, he really did want a friend in Hydra. It would ease the burden he was going through. And maybe he would have more freedom, including to see Steve more. And maybe Rumlow would listen more.

With a sigh, Bucky turned around again and tossed the covers more over him. He didn't want to think about this right now. He was too tired. And he was surprised at the intentions Rumlow had made known.

With a deep breath, he fell asleep.

(The next day)

Bucky was nervous at his first appointment with Charles. Rumlow was there with him. It was Rumlow's intention to be involved whenever medication was distributed. Also, because Bucky was his, he had to be there.

It scared Bucky to no end that they were going to drug him more. He was already drugged up enough whenever he entered Hydra, and he was drugged up before he left Hydra. So to add more was too much to ask of him in Bucky's opinion.

Barnes shivered. Charles was busy reading the agreement Rumlow had just signed, making sure it was to his satisfaction. Finally, the man seemed satisfied. He put it down, but did not file it away just yet. "Okay," the man announced. He folded his hands in his laps as he looked at Bucky. "So I reviewed everything and I was wanting to go over some things with you before we discussed medication."

Bucky stiffened. But he nodded in obedience. Charles picked up his chart again. "I can see from some records we stole that you're on Lunesta. But you're not on any psychiatric medication. The Lunesta is to help with your sleep, but it appears that they keep increasing it because it's not working. And you've tried every other medication there is. How is your sleep?"

Refusing to answer, he looked away. "Bucky," Rumlow prompted, trying to get Barnes to be obedient. "We're going to help you with your sleep. Don't you want that? Don't you want better sleep?"

Bucky shook hard, angry, but he refused to answer. He wasn't prompted through the bond, and evidently Rumlow wasn't in the mood to force him to cooperate at this point. Sighing, Rumlow turned to Charles. "He doesn't sleep well," Rumlow answered for Bucky. And Bucky hated it when people answered for him. Steve never did that to him. But Rumlow did know what he was talking about and could answer because he felt everything Bucky felt, just as Bucky could often feel Rumlow, and could always feel when Rumlow was injured, no matter the degree of injury.

"How so?" Charles inquired, looking for more specifics.

"He tosses and turns," Rumlow explained. "He can't fall asleep. He can't stay asleep. Everything seems to distract him sometimes. But other times he can fall asleep. Mainly, it's such a shallow sleep, except when he's so tired and exhausted, or really, really stressed. There are exceptions, of course."

Charles nodded, writing this down. "The truth is, the medications of the outside world aren't as good as the treatments we have here in Hydra," he commented. "And they're hardly ever effective."

"At least I chose it," Bucky gritted out. He was still miffed that they ignored his lack of choices in Hydra.

"Not without a lot of convincing," Rumlow pointed out. "How long did it take Steve to convince you to go on medication? Over a year you'd been living with him. And it took several months after I took you for them to convince you to go back on it. And even then, you won't ever agree to anything else but the sleep medicines; no psychiatric medications to help you."

Bucky didn't answer. He didn't want to have to explain himself. Rumlow continued. "We're trying to help you, Bucky. I know it's forceful, but at least we're getting things _**done**_."

"Without regards to my feelings," Bucky pointed out. That part still rubbed him sore.

A sigh escaped everyone in the room as they all became exasperated. "Next on the agenda," Charles announced. "I am thinking that I'd like to discuss some of the emotions you're facing."

Bucky stiffened more. "No."

"Not an option, Bucky," Rumlow pointed out. He wound his arms around Bucky's shoulders and when Bucky tried to pull away, he held him firmly and sent a 'no' feeling through the link. Having no choice, Bucky was held, shivering in anger at the violation and that his handler was touching him without his permission. Rumlow sent feelings of compassion and comfort through the link and Bucky relaxed some. Rumlow had meant for holding him to be an act of comfort, anyways.

Charles waited while this played out. "How are you feeling right now?" he asked, pen at the ready.

"Angry," Bucky admitted, gritting his teeth. "Definitely angry. And violated." He glanced at his handler to see how he would react and Rumlow shrugged.

"I'm not going to punish you for honesty," Rumlow reassured him. "In fact, I want you to be honest. We're trying to help you, remember?"

"You're not going to be punished for admitting your feelings," Charles added. "In fact, facing your feelings is what's going to help you get better. Only once you face them can you fully heal. You're going to have to experience them fully at some point, instead of burying it down."

"No!" Bucky begged. He was on the edge of panic.

"It'll be all right," Rumlow comforted him, squeezing his shoulder gently. "You're very brave. You can do this."

"I don't want to!" Bucky complained. He sent pleading eyes to his handler, but his handler shook his head.

"We won't discuss it this time, and dealing with your feelings through therapy isn't my job," Charles was firm. "But I can give you medications, like a mood stabilizer, and that's what I'm going to do right now. With you're metabolism, you'll need to be on a much higher does than the average, and you'll need to be on it for a little longer to see if it will take because things tend to leave your system quickly. That's why we had to keep you longer the first few times," Charles explained. "They needed to make sure that your body would accept the medication."

"And if I refuse to take the drugs?" Bucky challenged, glaring back.

Rumlow shrugged. "There's always the bond," he pointed out, and Bucky shivered. "And we can always inject it straight into you, or give it to you via IV."

Immediately, Bucky was wary. He got the hint. He was getting the medication, whether or not he liked it or agreed to take it.

"Ideally, we'd like your cooperation," Charles murmured softly, writing something down on his note pad. "But we'll deal with it however we need to deal with it." He sighed and then changed the subject. "Okay." He ripped the page off the pad and gave it to Rumlow who accepted it gratefully.

"No matter what, when he leaves Hydra we're going to have to administer it via IV anyways. That'll tide him over until he's back with Hydra. Injections are not the best bet for administration of this medicine. But while he's here, we can try the pills. If the pill don't work, we'll use the IVs. I want him back here in a week. I don't care if he leaves, as long as he's back here in a week to evaluate how the medicine is doing. Once we find a medication that works for him, and he's stable, I'll be fine with seeing him once a month. Each appointment shouldn't take longer than thirty minutes. And if you have to administer an IV because he'll leave right after the appointment, that will take an hour at most."

Nodding, Rumlow pocketed the prescription despite Bucky's distress. "We'll start here," Charles informed Bucky. "And once you're stable on a mood stabilizer, we'll start with the other things, like the depression and stress your under."

"I'm not depressed!" Bucky protested, gritting his teeth and squeezing his fists.

"And your anger," Charles tagged on. "But for now, this is all. I want you to get used to it. You're appointment for the day is over."

Bucky glared and Rumlow sighed, getting up. The man put on his jacket and motioned Bucky to follow him out the door. They were both silent as Bucky walked behind Rumlow, never beside or in front in case he was in danger.

Rumlow sighed and turned around. "We'll stop at the compound pharmacy first. We need to get your meds, and you need to hear how to take it. Then, since I know you're stressed and upset, I'll take you home for some rest."

"I want to go back to my real home!" Bucky complained, and tears started streaming down his face. He couldn't help it.

"I know," Rumlow compassionately told him, sending comfort through the link. He put a gentle hand on Bucky's shoulders and Bucky didn't pull away, relaxing instead. He was so stressed and desperate for any comfort. He also noticed that for once Rumlow didn't correct him about his home. But through the feelings of the bond, Rumlow reassured Bucky that he was home.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Bucky begged, tear faced.

Rumlow shook his head sadly. "You'll get used to it here. Pretty soon, it won't be traumatic anymore for you to come here. Don't worry about it. You're safe here." He squeezed his shoulder again, and Bucky couldn't help but burst into sobs, hanging his head. Rumlow enveloped him in a soft hug and Bucky cried into his shoulder, sobbing softly.

How long Bucky cried for, he wasn't sure. But he was tired by the time he was done crying. And he was embarrassed. "Don't be," Rumlow murmured softly as Bucky pulled away, wiping his eyes. "Don't be embarrassed. It's all right to express your feelings." Bucky had to admit he was grateful that no one else but Rumlow was around to see that he was crying.

Gently stroking his hair, Rumlow sighed. "Let's go get your meds."

Bucky followed obediently, unable to disobey. As they reached the pharmacy, walking a fair ways, Bucky wondered how big the city actually was. As Rumlow felt his feelings, he replied, "Quite big. Four times the size of L.A. and it's suburbs."

Bucky dropped his mouth in shock and quickly closed it. He had no idea. But he didn't have any more time to think on this for they were already at the pharmacy.

As they walked in, a man with grey hair looked up. "Sir," he greeted. His eyes glanced curiously to Bucky and then wandered back to Rumlow. "It's good to see you," he finished his greeting, holding his hand out.

Rumlow shook it. "And likewise." Handing the prescription to the doctor, the man nodded. He walked away to fill it up, but was still within site and hearing range. "I plan on having him leave tomorrow," Rumlow indicated. Bucky's eyes widened and he briefly stood on his tip toes in excitement. "We'll need the IV ready."

"For how long?" the man asked.

"Charles wants him back in a week," was the response. The pharmacist nodded and then was quiet.

As it was going to take a little while to compound, Rumlow gently grabbed Bucky and sat him down. He sat down beside him. Bucky turned to face him. "Another day?" he asked. "Then I can really go home?"

Rumlow shook his heading, bringing his hand up. "You are home," he responded in exasperation. Bucky frowned. Sighing, he patted Bucky on the back. "But yes, you're going back to Steve tomorrow. And when you get back I want a full report."

"What now?" Bucky asked. "We're not going to Wakanda."

"Leave that to me to figure out," Rumlow gently encouraged. "You're supposed to follow _**my**_ lead, right?" Bucky nodded once in obedience. "Good." Rumlow patted him on the back.

"But what do I tell him?" Bucky asked in frustration. He began tapping his leg impatiently. "I've been gone a while. I know he knows that something is up. He keeps prying further and further. I can't keep this up for longer."

"You tell him nothing," Rumlow was firm. "I'll let you know when it's the right time. I'm still arranging things."

At that point, the pharmacist motioned them over, the prescription filled. "It's enough for a month, so when you come back, Asset, you'll need to take the pills again. We'll give you an IV meanwhile." Barnes frowned at being called Asset. "Take it with food," the pharmacist gently encouraged. "You might get sick to your stomach otherwise. Also, because of your metabolism, you might have some side effects until it's properly established in your system. Then it should lesson some. So don't be alarmed if that happens. Also, this is a twice a day med."

Upset, stomach cringing, Bucky nodded firmly. Rumlow accepted the medication.

They proceeded home.

As Bucky walked in, Rumlow motioned him to the dinner table. Bringing out some crackers, he motioned to the cup that Bucky had drunk out of earlier. Sighing and knowing that it was pointless to resist, Bucky complied, taking his medicine and then eating. When he was done he felt a little woozy. Rumlow, feeling it, came up and gently steadied Bucky, struggling to steady himself as it was. But it only lasted a moment, and then it was all over.

Patting him gently on the shoulder, Rumlow sent comfort through the link. "Off to bed with you."

Groaning, Bucky stumbled up to "the room of horror" and plopped down on the bed. He didn't even bother taking off his shoes.

Bucky was out in the blink of an eye.

(The next day)

Blinking awake, Bucky gasped. Groaning, he looked down. Rumlow had taken off his shoes and changed him into pajamas at some point. Bucky was curled up under the covers, and was surprised that he was quite comfortable and cozy.

He wanted nothing more than to stay there at that moment, knowing he would be facing his medications and IVs soon. But strangely enough, he wasn't so worried or scared about it anymore. He was more annoyed at the inconvenience than anything.

A prompting from Rumlow came, and Bucky obeyed, going downstairs. As Rumlow saw him, the food, some omelettes, already on the table, Rumlow motioned to the pill bottle. "Take your meds," he encouraged.

Displeasure was on Bucky's face, but he obeyed none the less. Taking a bite of the omelette, he scooped up the two quarter sized pills he had been prescribed to take, and swallowed them down in one gulp. When he was done, he sat down to eat. Rumlow set another omelette in front of him.

As he ate, he wondered if Rumlow had already eaten, for the man was watching him closely. His handler was silent, no emotion showing, no emotion emanating. That made Bucky wonder what he was thinking.

Bucky slowed down eating, but when Rumlow motioned him to continue, he did. It wasn't until he was done that Rumlow decided to address him. "You know that you're headed back to Steve today, right?" he murmured softly. Bucky nodded. He listened closely, well aware that his handler wanted something from him. Rumlow sighed and then continued. "Well, I want you to keep an eye out while you're there. And I want you to do some snooping around. Yeah, I know Steve keeps a close eye on you and all that, but there's some information I need to make heads and tales of everything, to put it all together. Will you do that for me?"

Bucky knew that he would as he had no choice, but he nodded. And strangely, he wasn't upset. He was cooperative. After all, he wanted to know what was going on to. "Anything in mind exactly?" he asked, paying closer attention than before.

Eyeing him carefully, Rumlow hesitated for a second before nodding. "Yes, actually. I was hoping that you could hack into Tony's servers. Some of my intel indicates that he went personally to Wakanda and they found something related to your attempted kidnapping." Bucky grimaced and sympathy was in Rumlow's eyes. "They haven't had a chance to tell Steve yet, as he's in a frenzy regarding you, but no doubt they will soon. However, they have no intention of telling you, which means I'm without that intel." Bucky breathed slowly. Rumlow was also giving him a chance to find out for himself, as he was realizing. Leaning forward, Rumlow continued. "We both need this," he was serious.

Nodding, feeling a wave of duty, Bucky nodded. "Good," Rumlow sat back, a satisfied look on his face. "And get any other random information that you can. But get the others first. However, I won't say no to anything else. The more information for Hydra, the better."

Bucky's gut clenched. A part of him felt like he was betraying the people who trusted him explicitly now that he was doing this for Hydra, even if he had no choice in the matter. There was an awkward silence after that, and Rumlow waited for the awkwardness to die down, waiting further for Bucky to respond. He knew that his Asset had more to say to him.

There was one other thing that Bucky wanted to know before they got started for the day. "How much longer?" he asked, knowing that his handler was going to pick up on his intent due to the bond.

Raising an eyebrow, Rumlow considered for a moment. "How much longer am I going to be having you play this game?" Bucky nodded, eager to hear the reply. "Why do you ask?"

Frowning, a bit disappointed, Bucky explained, "Steve knows something is up. It's taking it's toll on him. Moreover, there's no way that this can be kept a secret indefinitely. Since Steve suspects something I know that he's going to get others involved if he already hasn't. And already the government is starting to crack down on me. I'm going to wind up in a mental institution, as you seemed to imply that people want, if this keeps up any longer. I have nothing to give Steve, let alone explain to him, and let alone explain to the government. And I know that the government is pressuring Steve. If they think that Steve won't do anything, they'll step in and interfere personally. And once I'm locked away, there's nothing I can do to help you. Is that what you wanted?"

For a moment, it seemed that Rumlow had taken this counsel to heart, but then he leaned his head back and puffed out some air. "I'm well aware of this, Bucky. You don't need to counsel me on this."

"But-!" Bucky protested, and only when Rumlow held up his hand and stopped him while using the bond at the same time did he stop his protests. "I know that you're worried and upset," Rumlow sent comfort through the link. "But you need to relax and be calm. I'm well aware of it. And I've got everything under control. That won't happen to you, I promise. I think you'll find that if they try anything of the sort, it won't work out."

"How?" Bucky breathed, a desperation in his voice. He didn't like being kept out of the loop, and this was taking it's toll on him.

"You don't need to know that," Rumlow gently corrected. "But it'll be all right, I assure you. After all, there will come a time when we will have to go public with this. I already knew that. I'm just waiting for the right time and the right opportunity to present itself.

This shocked Bucky, but the truth was he'd already suspected this. "So you _**do**_ plan to inform people about us?" He wanted to make sure he heard and understood correctly.

Rumlow nodded. "But at the time that I dictate."

A hesitation enveloped Bucky again. "I thought no one but Hydra was supposed to know about the bond? And even then, it used to only be the higher ups in Hydra. Now you've made it to where everyone in Hydra knows about the bond. Why are you making it known to everyone now? And won't Hydra oppose you?"

Rumlow started closing off to him and Bucky sent pleading eyes. "Fine," Rumlow sighed. "They're loyal to me because I'm leader. The truth is, very few oppose me, and it's only those that were loyal to Striker. Most don't like Striker. But, yes, I am doing things differently from the other past leaders in Hydra, and for a reason. The truth is, that was mostly a policy and a guideline that the others stuck to. I don't have to follow that, or any rule that previous leaders set out. Hydra is **_mine_** and it's **_mine_** to do with as **_I_** please. And **_I've_** dictated that **_this_** is how it is." Rumlow was silent after that.

"So why are you doing it?" Bucky asked after a brief silence and it was clear that Rumlow wasn't going to say anymore, knowing that he hadn't received a complete answer from Rumlow. A part of him wondered if Rumlow would even answer this.

Rumlow hesitated. "I have my reasons," Rumlow finally admitted. "And it's more for tactical advantage than anything. But you don't need to know the plan, nor do I want you to know. I know that you're not loyal to me."

He had to admit that he was a bit hurt and disappointed at this, but he also had to admit that Rumlow was right. Rumlow didn't have his loyalty. So he nodded in acceptance and obedience, and Rumlow sent comfort through the link.

Standing up, Rumlow motioned for Bucky to do the same thing. "It's time to get going," he informed his Asset. "That, and I know that you want to get back to Steve as soon as possible."

"But what am I supposed to tell him?" Bucky asked in distress. He knew that Steve was going to pester him about his disappearance.

"You're not going to tell him anything," Rumlow informed him firmly. "It's for me to decide. You're just going to stay silent about the whole thing."

"Steve is going to keep asking me questions," Bucky pushed.

Glancing firmly at him, Rumlow replied, "I know. You just avoid his answers and refuse to answer. You don't _**have**_ to say anything to him."

More disappointment crept on Bucky. He looked down and nodded slowly. Something in Rumlow softened some. "I know this is hard," he sent him comfort through the bond. "But you'll get through this. We'll both get through this together."

Bucky nodded in confirmation, not happy about it.

Rumlow walked him to the treatment room, Bucky dejectedly following. He knew he had no choice with the medicines.

The lab coats awaited him. When they motioned to a comfy chair complete with arm rests, Bucky complied, knowing that it was pointless to resist. Sighing, he sat down and obediently held out his right arm. Rumlow stood a ways away watching, his arms folded, carefully observing his Asset.

Sending some pitiful eyes to plead to Rumlow once more, and receiving feelings of firmness and that he needed to be obedient back, Bucky gave up. He let the lab coats work on him.

They approached him cautiously. As difficult as it was for Bucky, Rumlow sent comfort through the link. Barnes accepted it gratefully. Rumlow nodded his head, and the lab coats tied the rubber band around his arm, cleaning his arm off.

When the needle went in, Bucky gasped, and Rumlow comforted him more, sending him soothing feelings. Then the drip started.

He felt a little queasy at first, but eventually it subsided. He was surprised to see Rumlow doubled over briefly, because though he knew it affected him too through the bond, he remembered that sometimes Rumlow had a slower recovery rate due to the fact that he wasn't a super soldier. Why this happened, neither of them knew, because none of his other handlers had been affected by the bond like this. Thus they had been able to beat and abuse him.

Bucky did his best to stop thinking about that. Those thoughts always spiraled him into a depression.

"Relax," one of the lab coats soothed when they saw Bucky's distress. "It will pass. Remember, the more medicine you get the less the side effects."

"How much longer until that's the case?" Bucky demanded, looking up with pleading eyes.

"Hopefully not long," the lab coat encouraged. "We don't want you to have more side effects either. It could impair your ability to function and do the tasks that are required of you."

Bucky grimaced. Of course everything had to do with how much he could serve Hydra, and he didn't like that. For his part, Rumlow remained neutral in his expressions, watching Bucky closely, like a hawk.

The lab coat patted him on the shoulder. "It'll be all right. Don't you worry. I'll check back in here in an hour."

"An hour!" Bucky protested out loud and managed to send Rumlow a distressed look.

Rumlow moved forward, already sending soothing feelings through the link. "We'll play a game," he suggested. Then he turned to the lab coat. "Mathews, why don't you bring us a chess set?" The man nodded, disappeared for a few minutes, and then brought it back. Meanwhile, Rumlow towed a mini desk over and set it in front of Bucky. It was at a tall enough height where Bucky wouldn't have to contort himself into an uncomfortable position just to play.

"Chess?" Bucky questioned, Rumlow placing the chess board on.

Rumlow motioned to two queens, one black and one white, on the table that he placed in front of Bucky. "Which color?" he asked.

Bucky frowned. "Black." He wanted to analyze his handler's and opponent's moves. Maybe it would give him an edge later in life. Then he asked again, "Chess?"

Rumlow smiled, having figured out from Bucky's emotions what he was thinking. "You forget, we're bonded. There's nothing you could do to me anyways." Bucky grimaced. Rumlow sighed.

"Chess?" Bucky asked again.

"What?" Rumlow retorted, in mild outrage. "Others can spend quality time with you, but I can't? I _**am**_ your handler, after all. If anyone should be getting quality time with you, it should be me first and foremost. You are _**mine**_." He paused and added on as an afterthought, "But I do care about you. You should know that. That's why I want to spend time with you. It's not all about business, you know." And he sent such firm and soothing feelings through the link that Bucky knew that it was true. Bucky could feel how much Rumlow cared about him then. And he would never doubt it again.

After considering it, Bucky nodded. It was fair. "Chess it is."

Rumlow smiled, a competitive spirit appearing in him already.

"Let's begin!"

 **I know that this chapter took a bit longer, and I apologize.**

 **Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6: Realigning

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Six: Realigning

(Bucky Point of View)

Since Rumlow was white, Bucky waited for his handler to make the first move. Rumlow thought carefully, then finally made his move with one of the middle pawns. Bucky followed suite, a plan starting to form in his hand. He mimicked Rumlow's move.

"So," Rumlow thought, moving again, a horse. As he started the conversation, it felt natural. "Anything on your agenda when you get back?"

"I look forward to my not so Hydra room!" Bucky immediately responded, moving. This earned a chuckle from Rumlow. "And cake. Definitely cake."

"Cake?" Rumlow raised an eyebrow, moving blindly.

Bucky frowned. How to explain it? "Steve's gotten in a habit of baking a cake for me whenever I'm in distress. I think he's trying to cheer me up." He moved.

"And what's your favorite cake?" Rumlow asked, mirroring his move in an attempt to block Bucky.

Bucky thought hard. Rumlow was attempting to get to know him, that much he knew. He wondered if it was part of Rumlow's plan to try to befriend him. That still puzzled him, what Rumlow had revealed to him the other day. He still didn't understand why Rumlow would want to be friends with _**him**_.

"It depends," Bucky finally admitted. "I mean, I like chocolate. But, it's not always chocolate that I want. Angel food cake is good too. Steve always lets me decide what I want. But, he's always insistent on doing the cooking for me instead of letting me help. He said he wants to do a service for me." A soft smile spread on Bucky's face at the memories. Ever since Steve became his guardian, it was this way.

Rumlow softly smiled to. "And it works? It cheers you up?"

Bucky frowned. Was Rumlow implying that he wanted to bake a cake for him? He wasn't sure if he wanted that. "Sometimes," he admitted carefully. "But, not all the time."

"Ah." Rumlow moved again. There was silence between them for a moment as both digested the conversation. Then, Rumlow seemed to move forward. "What kind of hobbies do you like?"

A sudden curiosity came over Bucky. "I thought you already knew?" he asked Rumlow. After all, Rumlow had implied many times that he had Bucky's memories, but for some reason Bucky couldn't understand or remember why.

Brock shrugged. "Yes," he carefully admitted, moving as Bucky had already moved. "But, sometimes conversation still helps. It can bring the memories more to the forefront of my mind."

"My memories?" Bucky asked.

Brock nodded. "Remember, I have more than two sets of memories in my head." Bucky puzzled at this, so Rumlow added, "Your handlers. I have the memories of your handlers. You don't know what that's like. Sometimes I get things jumbled up. I'm not sure how Pierce handled it, even though I have the memories. And it's like this, just as you don't remember every single day of your life with clarity, or even the average person for that matter, the same it is with these additional memories."

"You have my handlers' memories?" Bucky gasped in shock. Rumlow nodded.

Silence reigned once again. "Sometimes I need something to jog my mind, just like with an average person," Rumlow admitted.

Bucky nodded. "Ah." He didn't quite understand, but, he supposed he could glimpse how confusing it could be.

They stopped the game briefly, and Bucky readjusted his arm so that the needle wasn't bothering him as much. Bucky gazed deep into Rumlow's eyes. "If you love me," he asked, sincerity in his gaze. "Then why do you do these things to me?"

Rumlow looked him back straight in the eye. "I have my priorities," he admitted. "And, I am doing this for your own good. But, that doesn't mean that I don't care, because I do. How can I not? You're apart of me."

Looking away in discomfort, Bucky sighed. Rumlow wanted to be friends, that much he knew. But, could he be friends with this man when he was his handler and in essence his kidnapper?

Fortunately, or unfortunately, however you looked at it, Rumlow seemed to catch on because of his feelings. He gently tapped Bucky's wrists, causing Bucky to avert his eyes to him again. "Hey," he whispered softly, a comforting tone in his voice. "Like I said, it's not all business. And I do enjoy it when I get to spend some personal time with you. I mean, chess, our conversations, it's all because I care about you. I want you comfortable, and I'm trying to make you comfortable."

After some thought, Bucky nodded. He could understand that. Sometimes Rumlow would even hold him while he cried. And he didn't deny that physical contact with Rumlow felt good sometimes. After returning to Hydra, Rumlow would often hold Bucky to help him calm down. And they would converse while Rumlow gently rocked him back and forth. It was soothing, actually. And it was strange. A part of Bucky felt like he was a little child being comforted again.

Patting his wrists, Rumlow moved again. "Do try to get some rest while you're over there," he voiced his concern, and once more Bucky couldn't help but feel like he cared. "I know that you struggle with that sometimes, and it worries me."

"Don't worry," Bucky murmured softly, a small smile now on his face. "I do what I can to achieve that, and you know it. Sometimes the exhaustion does it for me."

Rumlow chuckled a little. They both knew that. Bucky sometimes had the capability, recently, to fall asleep at the least opportune times. "As long as you get some rest," he encouraged. And there was a little sparkle of delight in his eyes. "You have a tendency to make people worry about you, you know that right? I think it's a super power that you have."

Bucky snorted. "No." There was no way that he was going to own up to that one. And there was no way that he was going to admit it either. If anything, he was the one looking out for others, in his opinion. He was the guardian.

Rumlow must have guessed his thoughts from his emotions because he knew him so well. "Maybe once upon a time," he admitted, and there was not doubt that his mind was going to Steve as a small frown formed on his face. "But not anymore. Somehow you even managed to wiggle your way into my heart."

A sly smile formed on Bucky. "Does that mean I have an influence on you that you don't care to admit?" he guessed.

Frowning, Rumlow hardened up. But there was still warmth in his eyes. "Don't even think about that," he mildly warned.

Bucky chuckled. He knew that he was spot on. And he had to wonder, how many times had he accidentally influenced Rumlow without realizing it? "Because you know that it's true," he taunted just slightly and Rumlow sent a glare at him that was good natured none the less.

"Don't get any ideas," Rumlow warned.

"Oh, but why not?" Bucky teased, chuckling, and for the first time, Bucky realized that he was starting to enjoy himself around Rumlow. A soft and fond for him smile lit Rumlow's face. "See?" the man encouraged. "We can get along. And we can be friends."

"Yeah," Bucky breathed, the realization striking him as well. Maybe, even though they were handler and Asset, there was still room for friendship.

It was a foreign concept to him. The man had enslaved him. Why was it that he was now willing to consider friendship? Why was it that Bucky was willing to open his heart up to the man? Why was he starting to have fun with him, as friends do?

A gentle feeling was nudged in him. As Bucky looked up, he saw a gentle expression towards him on Rumlow's face. "I do care about you," he repeated. And he sent the caring feelings for good measure, to encourage Bucky to the truth more.

A soft feeling of relaxation flowed into Bucky. Peace started coming into him. While he wasn't sure he believed in what Hydra stood for (he wasn't sure what the current standards were now that things changed with Brock), he was fairly sure that they had the same standards, that they were just administering it in a different way.

Why Rumlow relied on these other methods to further Hydra's goals, Bucky didn't know. But, a sneaking suspicion entered into him. Was it because of him?

Rumlow snorted. "No," he answered that question firmly. And Bucky couldn't help but wonder if there was denial there. Ever since kidnapping him, Rumlow was acting differently, Bucky was pretty sure. The man who had first kidnapped him had changed as they went through their ordeal together to get back to Hydra, and he was still changing. He didn't wipe Buck's mind like he was supposed to. He was a bit loose and was a lot less strict with Bucky. He wasn't as cruel to Bucky as he should have been.

A sigh escaped Bucky. Rumlow was watching him in compassion. Suddenly, Bucky didn't know what he wanted anymore. "I just don't want to think right now," Bucky leaned his head back. He listened to the drip, drip, drip, of the IV.

After a moment, Rumlow nodded. The man looked away before looking back at him again. Carefully sliding the chess board so to another table so that the pieces weren't disturbed in case they decided to play again, he folded his arms, leaning forward. Then he patted Bucky carefully on the metal arm. "What do you want to do then?" he asked, and Bucky caught his eyes. The man was serious in his engagement. He really was leaving it up to Bucky, unlike he usually did.

Bucky shrugged. What could they do? "I don't know," he admitted. He thought for a minute, though he didn't really want to. "Talk, I guess?"

Rumlow nodded. "What do you want to talk about?"

"How about how you plan to take care of me from now on?" Bucky suggested. Something about that had been nagging at his mind for a while. He still wasn't sure what his fate was meant to be in Hydra. "Once you conquer the world?" he continued asking. "What then? What about me? Will I go back into cryofreeze?"

Rumlow shook his head. "No." And Bucky knew that he was sincere. He wasn't about to send Bucky back into the dreaded freezer.

The next question Bucky was hesitant about, but he didn't know why. "The bond is different," he began carefully. "Somehow, if I get injured, you get injured in the same way. And if you get injured, I get injured in the same way. It wasn't that way with my other handlers. But... does that mean that if one of us dies... the other one dies?"

Taking his time to consider the question, Rumlow nodded. "Theoretically. And that has been the concern of all the Hydra personnel."

A gasp of fear entered Bucky. His frame shook. The consequences of this he knew, and he didn't like. "But... but..." he wasn't sure what else to say. Rumlow sent comfort through the link. But then, he was back to asking his question. "I live a long time! Steve and I have an extended life because of the serum! In fact, it's theorized that we could live forever! But, you age! Does that mean I'm going to die? Does that mean that Steve is going to live all alone?!"

Rumlow softly patted him on the hand, being careful of the IV. "Peace," he murmured softly. "My personnel are aware of the situation and of what the serum does. Remember how you were eventually given some of the serum from Howard Stark as well? Well, Hydra has that on file. I have no intention of letting you life a short life. In fact, the serum can reverse aging. That's why you and Steve are always in your optimum age. I'm going to be getting the serum as well, once the first batch has been completed. Then neither of us will age. You'll be able to have a normal life with me."

Bucky's mouth shot open. He wasn't sure how to handle this. Rumlow with a serum? What would that do? And what would that do to the bond?

"Peace," Rumlow soothed him again. "It shouldn't do anything to the bond other than make it stronger, make us closer."

So, Rumlow had guessed what he was thinking. And the truth was, Bucky wasn't sure that he wanted a stronger bond. It was already a strong bond as it was, and it had brought a lot of problems for Bucky.

"Peace," Rumlow soothed again. "At least you won't get to die." They were silent for another minute or to.

It surprised Bucky that Rumlow hadn't mentioned his comment about Steve. He knew that Brock wasn't very fond of the man. But, even more surprising, he was still willing to comfort him. And it shocked Bucky that he was going to get the serum too. He wasn't sure how to respond to that.

That Steve irked him and Brock would set it aside for Bucky's comfort touched Bucky's heart. Given time, some part of him hoped that Brock could patch his "friendship", or whatever was left of it, with Steve. He knew that they had originally been friends until Steve had been betrayed by Brock. And, Steve had commented to him before that he'd wondered if he and Brock had even been friends, or if it was all a ploy to use him. And, it had irked Steve to no end that Brock had known about Bucky and had been part of his abuse when Brock knew well that Steve was very close and attached to Bucky.

But this brought another question to Bucky's mind that he wanted answered. Brock gave him his full attention, sensing that there was something on his mind. "What is it?" he prompted gently.

Bucky was hesitant at first, but at another gentle prompting, he followed through on his question. But that didn't mean he wasn't nervous about it. He was growing confident in it, though. "Were you..." he hesitated. "Were you... ever really friends... with Steve? Or was it all a ploy to gain his trust?"

Rumlow pulled back in surprise at this. " _ **That's**_ what you want to know?" he asked. Bucky nodded earnestly. At this Brock chuckled some, looking away in thought. "Maybe," he finally admitted. At a look from Bucky, he admitted, "Okay, yeah! Once upon a time, we were. I knew his past, even with you," he added on, and Bucky gulped, accepting the truth as it is. "But that doesn't mean that at one point I wasn't friends with Steve. That's why it hurt when he dropped that building on me."

"He felt betrayed by your actions," Bucky pointed out, trying to help Brock see the reverse side.

Rumlow snorted. "You have to remember, just because we were friends doesn't mean that I didn't have my priorities. My first loyalties are to Hydra and were to Hydra, remember?" Bucky shifted uncomfortably. There was always that.

"Did you never... then... feel sorry... at least a little bit... for me?" Bucky was hesitant.

A sad smile was on Rumlow's face. "Always," he admitted. "I knew what they'd done to you. They'd turned you into something other than human. But, see, we believed there was no feeling in you at that point. You never reacted, at least not with emotion. There was nothing there. So, as I saw it, it was too late anyways. You were dead. You weren't even human anymore, so what was the point in worrying, except for our lives?"

Bucky shivered at that. Something about the answer bothered him, and as he thought on it, he realized that it was because it wasn't true. Brock looked into his eyes. "Of course, now I realize how wrong I was. Even Pierce believed it, because he could sense no feelings from you. How wrong we were, despite the fact that you could not feel. After all, if you were merely a dead machine, there's no way you would be talking to me like this right now."

Bucky shivered again, and Rumlow patted him gently on the hand. His eyes drifted over to the drip, and so did Bucky's. "Almost done now." And indeed it was, for the bag was mostly shrunken.

Bucky wasn't sure that he liked the answer. It made him afraid, and he didn't know why. Maybe it was a ghost of after fear that was escaping him, since Rumlow was right. He couldn't feel anything then. Or, as his therapist from the outside world called it, he had been numb.

Gentle compassion nudged into him. Bucky looked up. A lone tear escaped his right eye, and Rumlow gently nudged it away with his finger. It felt comforting, and Bucky leaned in to the touch. "It's all right," Rumlow murmured softly. "Those days aren't coming back, remember?"

"But, I still remember them," Bucky moaned. There tears flowed a little more freely, and Bucky memorized the feeling as Rumlow cupped his cheek.

A sad look came over Brock. "I know," he murmured softly. Then, "Can you not forgive me? Can you not forgive Hydra?"

Wide eyed, Bucky looked up. "I was always afraid. I was never angry. How can I forgive when I was never placing blame or angry to begin with? I don't know what I feel about Hydra, actually. I only know that I'm afraid of it."

Rumlow seemed sad, but nodded. "I guess that's to be expected."

At this moment, the doctors came back in and Bucky gulped, looking up. Rumlow sent some comfort through the link. Everybody but Bucky watched as the last of the medication dripped into him. Then, the doctors stepped up.

Sighing, one of the doctors commented, "It may not be much, but things will eventually get better. The more medication you get and the more IVs you get, the more you will notice a difference, and the more you will feel better."

Bucky shivered briefly, comfort continually being sent to him, but he forced himself to stop intentionally as the doctors began slipping out the needle. One of the bald doctors smiled warmly at him and patted him on the back. "You're all done. You're all free to go."

Sudden excitement coursed through Bucky and he looked up. He was going to see Steve. Looking at Rumlow in anticipation, almost begging, Rumlow nodded at him. "Take care," the man softly acknowledged him.

Standing up for joy, Bucky raced out to the locker room. As usual, he would find that the clothing he had come in would have been laundered. The personnel with keys would let him in, he would change, and then he would finally head back home.

(A little while later)

Bucky frowned. He was sat down in his room, Steve standing over him. Steve had been pacing back and forth for hours, it seemed, and yet the man still hadn't spoken to him after telling him to get upstairs and to escort him. And Bucky had been sitting there for hours.

Bucky didn't want to be the one to break the silence.

Finally, Steve turned back to him, a frantic panic in his eyes. "Where **_were_** you?" he demanded to know.

Bucky, for his part, stayed silent. And, in all honesty, he didn't know what to say. Rumlow had told him to be silent about what was happening, after all.

Some part of Steve's face fell when he saw this, and he let out a whine of frustration, grabbing his hair with his hands. "I just had to call the police and let them know that you've finally come home. Do you have _**any**_ idea how much **_chaos_** it's been?"

Bucky, though he was wary, looked up. He didn't like seeing Steve like this. He really didn't. And a part of him knew that Steve wasn't done.

Steve was back to pacing, frantic. One lone tear ran down his eyes. "The government doesn't like this, you disappearing like this. They've been getting after me for a while about this because I can't keep you in check. A lot of people, citizens, are concerned. I have no way to answer them. The judge forced me to appear. They're going to take you away, Bucky. They're going to take you away."

Some part of Bucky started panicking. There was no way he was going to allow that. "No!" he begged.

Steve was crying, and Bucky could see the devastation in his eyes. "I don't have a choice!" he cried. "I couldn't keep you. And I argued that no one can keep you if you don't want to be kept, not even the government. But they ruled against me. I'm loosing my guardianship of you, Bucky."

Bucky was shaking his head, shivering, starting to cry. It was what he was afraid of. "No!" he begged. This couldn't be happening. And he'd pled with Rumlow so hard. Was this what Rumlow wanted?

Steve finally cried and sat on the bed beside him, devastated. "My lawyer called this morning. He thinks they finally managed a negotiation for me to retain guardianship. But it's still at a price, Bucky. And you're still going to be taken away."

Something about that statement made Bucky's blood curl. He immediately knew that he didn't like where this was headed. Steve took a deep breath and then admitted, "You've been admitted into an asylum."

Shock poured through Bucky. For a moment, he forgot how to breath. An insane asylum? He finally found his voice. "No!" he begged in a small whisper, his eyes pleading with Steve, but Steve was carefully looking away from him. "Please no!" Bucky begged. And how was he going to perform his work for Rumlow now?

"I don't have a choice," Steve mourned. "It's either that or loosing you. You've put me in a pickle, Bucky. I have to decide. And I'd rather keep custody of you, than risk having someone else or the government having custody of you. At least with this, I might retain some say. And there's a chance that you'll come back to me."

Panic set in Bucky. "Please no!" he pled again. His world felt like it was falling apart, and he was desperate for an escape.

Steve shook his head. "It's not forever," he said, but there was something about him that wasn't so certain in his answer. "And I'll be visiting you, I promise. I won't abandon you."

Bucky knew the last part was true, but that didn't make it any easier. "Please no!" he begged again, but he could already hear a van pulling up. A part of him was shaking and trembling, but the other part of him was scared, pleading with his handler for mercy. He pled with Rumlow through feelings for help. He didn't know what to do. And he certainly didn't want to be admitted to a mental health hospital.

The doorbell rang. Steve stood up. "Please no!" Bucky begged, reaching out and caching Steve's hand. "They can't do this! They can't sentence me! I wasn't even present! It's illegal!" he begged. And he knew that it was true.

Steve was shaking, but he turned back briefly to Bucky. "I don't have a choice," he breathed. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Fight it!" Bucky begged. "You know it's illegal. I didn't even show up! How can they sentence me without me present? You know it's illegal!"

Steve breathed. "Our lawyer mentioned that already. They're already working on a way."

Bucky let out tears of fear and grief as Steve walked out the door to greet the people below. Pain enveloped him, and he kept sending begging feelings to his handler for mercy. But, what he heard next surprised him as Wakandan accents came from downstairs.

Some part of Bucky's heart briefly stopped. They weren't from the mental asylum, so why were they here?

Footsteps came up the stairs and the door opened a bit. Some Wakandans, mainly women, walked in. Bucky looked up in hope, in desperation.

The lead woman knelt in front of him. "Peace," she murmured. "We're not going to hurt you. We're here to take you and Steve into custody until we can work something out with the US government. But we need to move quick before anyone else comes here."

He trembled, and some part of him was shocked. This was a rescue of sorts. But, how had the Wakandans gotten here? He knew that he was missing information.

The woman must have seen the questions in his eyes, for a kind smile lit her face. "I know you have questions, but now is not the time to answer them. Don't worry about packing. The king wants to meet with you, and he's provided and will provide you with everything you need. Right now, time is of the essence."

Bucky stood up, ready to go. "How did you know?" he breathed. He followed the woman out the door to Steve who had a relieved look on his face.

"We keep track of American politics," she admitted. "Especially since you and Steve are citizens of Wakanda. That, and your lawyer kindly informed us, albeit after we found out."

Her patience with him during this time of crisis was impressive to Bucky. Steve locked the door after everyone was out. They moved him and Steve into vehicles that had very few windows, and then off they went.

Steve turned to the woman, hope on his face for the first time. It was only now that Bucky could see how panicked Steve really was. "What does Lynda have in news?" he asked.

Lynda, the name of the lawyer who worked with Steve and Bucky, brought warm feelings to mind. She was very kind to him, not judgmental at all.

The Wakandan woman answered Steve, "She's appealing to a higher court of law. The irony is, this has gotten out, and people have started protests about the illegalities of the situation. As it is, the judge has been forced to resign."

Bucky and Steve blew out a deep breath. They were both relieved, and Bucky believed that the judge had deserved it. But, something about the way she said made it sound strange. Bucky wondered if Hydra was behind the protests, and that that was Rumlow's way of helping him out. Regardless, it seemed to have the people in Wakanda concerned, by the looks on their faces. They seemed to think there was something suspicious about it.

"And King T'Challa?" Steve asked, more hesitant this time. It was like he was afraid of being reprimanded by the king.

She shrugged, somehow sensing his hidden question. "He holds you to no blame," she admitted, answering his unspoken question. Steve looked relieved. Clearly he thought that he was going to be reprimanded before the king. "But he's concerned about the both of you, especially Bucky and his run away attempts. He wants to speak with Bucky personally, alone ideally."

Bucky gulped. He had no idea how he was going to answer the king about this. The woman must have sensed this as well, for she addressed him personally. "Peace," she replied. "He's concerned about you. You're not in trouble, and you won't be."

But that didn't make Bucky feel any better. Rumlow had told him to keep his mouth shut. But how was he supposed to do that in front of King T'Challa?

For about an hour and a half, Bucky was brooding on his upcoming circumstances. He wasn't looking forward to his conversation with the king, but he knew that it was inevitable. He also knew that it was unavoidable. So, sighing, when they reached the destination, he reluctantly followed the women out.

It was bright, and Bucky scrunched his eyes up. A jet, that no doubt housed the king, waited in front of him. Bucky was motioned in, and he and Steve obeyed. When they did so, Bucky nervously put his hands in his pocket, hiding as inconspicuously as possible behind Steve, even though he knew that T'Challa, who was seated in a chair right in front of him, could see him. But he did his best to remain quiet in hopes that Steve would get all the attention.

T'Challa's eyes were worried, and he eyed Steve up and down to make sure he was okay, taking in his exhausted state. He'd become good friends with Steve and Bucky while in Wakanda. Sam, who was also there in a chair to the right of the king, was eyeing the both of them the same way.

Finally, T'Challa stood up. "Steve," he greeted in his accent that was tainted with relief but also still held some worry. "It's good to see you!" He took Steve's hand in his own and shook it, Steve accepting the touch warmly and graciously as they treated each other as brothers. Bucky did his best to inch away somewhat, despite T'Challa's gaze flickering with concern towards him when he did that (Steve oblivious as he had his back to him), and the women blocking the entrance before sealing it shut for flight.

"You as well," Steve greeted back. He held T'Challa's grip a little longer for comfort before releasing it.

T'Challa next stepped towards Bucky, who stood stalk still. "Bucky," he held his hand out and greeted warmly. Bucky shook his hand out of politeness, still worried. But T'Challa had a worry in his eyes as well, seeing Bucky's nerves.

One of the women stepped up. "Why don't we seat ourselves for flight?" she suggested, and king T'Challa nodded.

"A good idea," he confirmed. Everyone sat down but Bucky until Steve pulled Bucky down to sit on the couch beside him. When he saw that Bucky wouldn't buckle up, he did it for his friend, Bucky frowning at that.

Steve looked up, having finished buckling himself. The plane started moving. "Forgive me, but where are we headed?"

"A secret island that the royal family owns," T'Challa supplied. " _ **Not**_ in Wakanda." T'Challa made sure to emphasize that last part, and part of Bucky wondered if that was due to Bucky's attempted kidnapping at Wakanda.

Steve must have thought the same thing for he added, "Where are you at in your investigation?" But his eyes flickered to Bucky as if he wasn't quite sure that he wanted Bucky to overhear it. T'Challa's expression showed the same thing, and Bucky couldn't help but be mildly annoyed.

"I think I'd like to talk with Bucky before we even discuss something of the topic," the king made his thoughts known as he eyed Bucky closely, causing Bucky to shift in discomfort. That, and Bucky really didn't like the staring.

It didn't take long for the plane to get in the air. When the plane was finally stabilized, T'Challa unbuckled and stood up. "Bucky, if you don't mind?" he motioned.

For a little bit, Bucky stayed seated to see if he could get out of this conversation. His discomfort was evident. But when he couldn't, he sighed, realizing that he had no choice. He unbuckled and made his way towards the area where the King of Wakanda now stood. They entered a separate room in the plane.

The door locked behind them and Bucky jumped slightly. T'Challa held up a comforting hand of peace. He then put a force field around the room (probably not as advanced as Hydra's, as Bucky thought), and for good measure told Bucky, "It's for noise cancellation, that way no one can listen in on us."

Bucky nodded, looking around. There were two comfortable couches seated across from one another. T'Challa motioned for him to sit in one, breaking royal protocol that stated the king or the royal, whichever was higher ranking, must be seated first, and let Bucky sit down. Not wanting to offend the king, he did as he was told. Then T'Challa seated himself, seating himself more gently and with more aristocracy.

For a while neither said anything, and T'Challa observed Bucky. Bucky shifted uncomfortably. But there was also concern in T'Challa's eyes. "How are you?" he finally broke the topic, and Bucky's gut clenched as he figured he knew where this was going, that he knew where this was leading.

Bucky wasn't sure how to answer. "I'm fine," was all that he could say, but both of them knew that this wasn't true. And T'Challa's eyes were in sorrow.

The young king leaned forward. "You're not fine," he concluded. But there was compassion there was well. "We both know that. You've been through a lot. But it's okay not to be fine. We all have times, even kings, when we need to cry and grieve. There is no shame in it."

"I-I don't know if I can," was all Bucky could say, not able to meet the King's gaze. Sorrow was in T'Challa's eyes at this, and he nodded.

"We've all been concerned about you," the king continued, his sharp eyes taking in Bucky's evasive behavior. "And we all know that something is going on. Bucky, I'm not asking you as your king, and I'm not asking you to answer as a subject of my nation. I'm asking as a friend, and I'm begging for an answer as a friend."

Shifting more uncomfortably, Bucky did his best to hold his tears back. How was he supposed to answer _**that**_? And so, for a while, the both of them were silent, neither one giving. But, even Bucky knew that he was going to loose this one. So all he did was finally answer, "I'm fine."

T'Challa held out a little longer, and then nodded. "It's okay to ask for help," he prompted more. Bucky started crying more but shook his head. There was no way that he could. "I promise you, you're not in trouble. We want to help you." Bucky shook his head more. But then he couldn't take it anymore. He burst out crying, and his head was in his hands. The stress of the entire situation weighed down on him, and he didn't know what to do anymore. And the truth was, as he now realized, he was too ashamed to admit it to Steve, his closest friend. Maybe that was why T'Challa was having an easier time breaking him down than Steve was.

The king sat beside him and put a hand around his shoulder. "It's all right," he murmured softly. "It's okay to cry. We cry when we are sorry or are in sorrow. I freely admit that I cried when I lost my father. You're society doesn't seem to think highly of men crying, but it's not so in our society, your adopted society. You can cry all you need without fear that you'll be judged. I promise you that." He rubbed soothing circles into Bucky's back.

It took a while, but Bucky finally managed to look up. "Wakandans are more open to men and emotions?"

T'Challa nodded. "It's _**encouraged**_ ," he emphasized. And with that he patted Bucky's back more. Bucky took a deep breath. He would be all right.

They sat in silence for a minute. Finally, T'Challa started again. "For your safety, I do need to ask some questions." When Bucky cringed, he added, "I promise you, you won't be in trouble, no matter what. But we do need to ask this." He gave time for Bucky to absorb this, and Bucky finally nodded, knowing that the inevitable was coming. So T'Challa continued. "Where have you been going?"

Bucky was silent. After a few moments and realizing that Bucky wasn't going to answer, he started again, but at the look in his eye, Bucky was pretty sure T'Challa already knew and had guessed the very thing that Steve had been in denial to himself. T'Challa merely wanted confirmation. "You've been different ever since you're capture and kidnapping at Hydra's hands." And he left room for Bucky to answer if he so wanted to.

Bucky started shivering. He had no way to answer this. But, unexpectedly, Bucky felt a prompting from his handler, an allowance to say certain things while certain things were still off topic. Evidently his handler _**was**_ aware of his situation, or at least _**somewhat aware**_.

Shivering, shaking as if he were confessing a crime, Bucky whispered in admittance, "Hydra."

He thought for a moment that T'Challa would be mad at him. He was expecting T'Challa to break his word and storm out of the room in anger. But T'Challa did none of those things. Instead, he seemed to be in deep thought and contemplation. "I thought so," the young king finally admitted. "It _**would**_ explain several things."

This left Bucky in confusion. He dared to ask, "You're not angry?" He was confused why the king wouldn't be angry. He would be. The king should be. He'd just admitted something bad. But, instead, there was no judgment in T'Challa's eyes, only concern and brotherly love for him.

T'Challa shook his head. "Angry, no. Concerned, yes." Bucky nodded, relaxing a little more. In a way, it was a relief that his handler was finally allowing him to answer, and in a way it was a relief to finally admit it. Then, the king countered with another question. "Are you being threatened to go to Hydra?" Bucky shook his head. Rumlow was beyond that with him. This answer caused some confusion in T'Challa, but he contemplated it. He countered with another question. "Are you being forced to go to Hydra?" Bucky nodded.

"Hmm," the king stared at him in thought. But he was calm, and Bucky couldn't help but feel calm and serene himself. He was feeling more and more relief by the second, something he hadn't expected when he knew he was going to see King T'Challa, and that more than likely this conversation would pop up. "Not being threatened and yet being forced to go to Hydra," T'Challa murmured as if it was a puzzle to be solved. And indeed it was.

Silence reigned, but finally, the king sat straight up, more conviction in his gaze. "I thought maybe you had gone willingly. And even if you had, I wouldn't have been mad. It simply would have been because of your brainwashing. And yet you are still brainwashed."

"No I'm not!" Bucky snapped, but he quickly blushed, remembering his manners. This was a king he was talking to.

T'Challa chuckled some. "I'm not angry," he reassured him. "Tell me, after taking you into Wakanda, have I ever shown signs that I'm going to bite you?" Bucky shook his head. "I don't bite," T'Challa emphasized. Then he was somber again. "I know you don't want to believe it, and I can see the stress in your eyes and the toll this is taking on you. Yes, I can tell that you're not willing to go there, but that still doesn't mean that you're not brainwashed. I've talked to my psychologists, and we've reviewed the tapes that we've seen of your evaluations. You are, believe it or not. But not in the manner everyone thinks. You're still reacting as if under threat."

Bucky shivered and looked away. It was a harsh reality to come to terms with. But he still didn't understand. "How can I be brainwashed?" he asked the king. "I'm not willing. You said it yourself. I'm not a willing participant of Hydra."

"No," the king admitted, a small frown on his face. "But you're acting under duress, and you're being forced to keep silence. Your brainwashing is that you feel helpless and that they have all the power over you. It's similar to what happens in some societies in dictatorships, like a prison camps, or when one is abducted by a cult. You may not believe me, and you believe there is no escape. That is very much brainwashing, even if you don't believe their doctrines or beliefs."

Frowning, Buck nodded. He guessed that made sense. "Except that I am helpless and that they do have power over me," he admitted. But then a feeling from his handler came, and he knew that that was where he needed to draw the line and keep his mouth shut. He wasn't allowed to say anything about the bond.

"Maybe," T'Challa looked at him in thoughtfulness. The king knew that he wasn't getting anything, and he realized that T'Challa was taking what he said to try to put the pieces together. Great. "Regardless, we're going to try to help you out of this. You shouldn't have to live this way, in captivity to someone else."

"There's nothing you can do!" Bucky pointed out. And T'Challa put a comforting hand on his shoulder as he began crying some, biting his lip.

"But we can try," T'Challa gently encouraged. "At least if we try, we have something to show for it. But if we don't try, then in many ways it is to our condemnation." After a moment, Bucky nodded. And then there was that, of course. But he still didn't see how this could be a possibility with the bond.

T'Challa gave a brief, encouraging smile before standing up. As Bucky stood up, he made his way to the door. T'Challa turned off the force field, and Bucky exited.

Looking back, he expected T'Challa to come out after him, but that wasn't the case. To his surprise, T'Challa motioned to Steve to come in, and Bucky gulped. He knew what that meant as he watched Steve walk over to T'Challa. They were going to talk alone, and without him. And he wasn't sure that he liked that.

Steve walked in after kindly greeting T'Challa, and the two shut the door. The sound of a force field came up, and Bucky frowned. Of course they were going to keep this quiet.

After standing around for some time, one of the women motioned for Bucky to sit down. "It's not good to stand on your feet for so long," she insisted, and Bucky allowed himself to be mothered. He was too worried to think of anything else. "Relax," she murmured softly, pouring him some juice that was blended from several fruits that Bucky had never heard of. But the drink was always cool and refreshing. "They'll be done before you know it."

As a matter of fact, it was a half hour before they managed to come out.

Bucky couldn't help the worried look on his face. Bucky was worried that T'Challa had told Steve what he'd told the king in confidentiality. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain it to Steve if Steve found out.

The two men sat down, and Steve sat beside Bucky. He patted Bucky briefly on the knee and wrapped Bucky in a hug. Bucky rested his head on him. He was getting tired. "It's going to be all right, Bucky," Steve murmured softly, and Bucky felt a tear drip on to him. Steve was crying silently.

T'Challa seemed solemn. Bucky waited for the conversation to start. He looked at T'Challa expectantly. He just wanted to get this over with.

Fortunately, T'Challa seemed to pick up on this. He sighed and nodded, starting the conversation. "Bucky," he began. There was a brief, careful pause, and then the man continued. "Steve and I have been talking. As your guardian, I had to tell him what you told me."

There was silence. Bucky had been afraid of that. He began sobbing. The tears and fear began pouring out of him. His handler sent him comfort.

Steve started rocking him back and forth even more. "No, no, no!" He whispered softly. "I'm not mad at all! I'm concerned, though. I'm very concerned about you, Bucky. I love you and I always will. You're my best friend. How can I not be concerned?"

And so, Bucky let the tears come pouring out, but this time from the stress of the whole situation. Steve squeezed him tighter, trying to be comforting. Shushing him gently, Bucky felt the stress of the situation begin to leave him. In a way, and to his surprise, it was also relaxing having Steve know what was going on.

A weight began to be lifted off of his shoulders. While there was still so much that he couldn't say because of the bond, he was beginning to get the relief that he needed. But there was also concern there, for all of his friends. Rumlow never did anything without a reason. If Rumlow had chosen that now was the right time to release some of the information, he wanted to know why. It couldn't be for anything good, that much he knew. And so Bucky feared that his friends' lives were in danger.

But Bucky didn't want to think about that right now. As selfish as he thought he was being, he just wanted the comfort right now. And so, he soaked it all in. He just wanted to forget about his problems and only focus on the love that was being directed his way, the love that he was receiving.

It took him a while to calm down, and he burrowed his head into Steve's shoulders as Steve held him. When he was finally calmed down, he sighed, looking up. Steve smiled softly, concern and care for him in his eyes. Steve rocked him back and forth more, and Bucky burrowed his head into Steve's shoulders once more.

A calm feeling entered him. The stress was still there, but for a moment, it felt so surreal.

Bucky let himself be held. Both Steve and T'Challa watched him in concern, and he tried to look away from that. He tried to ignore that. But when he looked up, Steve couldn't help smiling at him.

Steve squeezed him tighter. "It'll be okay, Bucky. We'll figure this out. We really will."

He nodded, but Bucky didn't feel to sure about it. He just wasn't going to tell them that. After all, if Rumlow thought that now was the right time to reveal things, then there had to be something bad coming. But he knew that he wasn't allowed to say anything. He wasn't even going to ask his handler, or send some emotions out to him to ask.

Steve frowned. He squeezed Bucky briefly again. "What's wrong, Bucky?" Evidently he had picked up on something.

Looking away, he shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered softly, leaning into Steve. Both Steve and T'Challa sighed. They knew that this was the most they were getting from him. Bucky didn't like their looks either. He knew that they worried about him, and it only made him feel guilty.

T'Challa thought it was time to change the subject. "We can discuss more once we reach our destination. Right now, we're not going to solve anything, and we need time to plan." He gave Steve a meaningful look and Bucky immediately knew that he wasn't going to be part of this conversation. They didn't trust him because they knew that Hydra had a hold on him, even if they didn't blame him. Bucky gulped. He was fine with it, but he knew his handler wouldn't be.

Sighing, Steve nodded. Then he turned to his friend. "Bucky," he murmured softly. "Why don't we get you some rest?"

Bucky stared at Steve in confusion and then turned with a questioning glance at T'Challa. The man nodded, and Bucky immediately knew that this had been pre-planned. A part of him was mad when he picked up on this. They wanted some time alone to discuss things.

"What rest?" he snapped. "If you don't want me here, just say it straight and quit pretending! Besides, don't you have the other room?"

Both T'Challa and Steve sighed. "Bucky," Steve began. "I know you've been up late. There is a room with a bed here that T'Challa is offering for you to use. Yes, I know that your upset, and yes, we do need to talk alone, but this is also for your sake."

Clenching his fists, Bucky pulled away. Suddenly, he didn't want Steve to hold him anymore. Steve tried to touch him reassuringly when he saw this, but Bucky pulled away. Steve didn't touch him after that. "You can't tell me? Am I really that much of a child to you?"

"No!" Steve exclaimed in horror. "It's not like that at all, I swear! Bucky, we're just looking out for you. Yes, we have the other room, but that room is more secure."

"From what?" Bucky snapped. "From me?"

Both Steve and T'Challa were silent after that, a sad look on both of their faces. But they were also careful. "We know that you're brainwashed," Steve was careful. "And we have our reasons for wanting you in that room now."

Clenching his fists, Bucky glared. He was used to being ordered around by now. He'd been ordered around for over seventy years with no choice given to him. And he'd been ordered around before that with his choice attached.

Following one of the women into the suite in the plane, she led him to a comfortable room. Sighing, he entered. "We'll be out here. Shout if you need anything," she encouraged when he turned around. He nodded stiffly back. The door was shut and a force field came up.

He turned to the room. There was a soft bed with blue sheets already made, and he plopped down. The door of the window was darkened, and when Bucky got up to look out, he saw that it was it wouldn't open. He growled and went back to bed.

A lone tear fell out of his eye. He began crying.

(Steve Point of View)

As soon as Bucky was secured in the room and the woman returned, Steve faced T'Challa fully. Both of them had worried looks on their faces in an intensity that they didn't want Bucky to see.

Steve started crying quietly. It took a little bit to compose himself. "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

T'Challa sighed, a worried expression on his face. "We both know that he's going to try to find a way to escape. Also, there is no way that he would suddenly start talking now. No, this was planned. He's being told to do this."

"How do we help him through his brainwashing?" Steve begged. He was desperate to alleviate his best friend's suffering.

T'Challa was sad. "I'm not sure that we can completely. There seems to be something else going on that we don't know about."

"Like what?" Steve begged. He didn't like where this was going. He was in desperate denial.

Raising an eyebrow, but patient none the less, T'Challa spelled out slowly, "I don't know. That's why I said we don't know about it. All I know is that this is rigged. Bucky wouldn't have told us otherwise. Finding out what that thing is, though, is a hard thing to figure out."

This started sending Steve into a slight panic until T'Challa held up his hand to reassure him. "What if he won't talk?" he worried.

T'Challa, for his part, was calm. "We don't know that he can talk about it, at least not in his own mind. Bucky has to work through this at his own pace. If he won't talk, then we will have to devise a means to find out. And in all truth and honesty, I think we'll have to do that anyways as I don't think he's going to give us anymore information. We don't want to stress him out and push him over the edge. That will only push him into Hydra's clutches. You have to understand, if you do too much, it can cause the person who is brainwashed to run back to their abusers. We don't want that. We want to be able to distance him from his abusers."

Shivering, Steve nodded. He understood. "But I thought you said that he's going to try to run away anyways?" he added.

Nodding and leaning forward, T'Challa added, "He will find that we are more secure than your house. We have gotten to know his movements. We won't let him go without a fight. And the truth is, I don't think he really wants to leave, anyways. He merely believes that he has no choice, and that is what is fueling him to go back to Hydra each time."

"So it's fear?" Steve echoed. "They're using fear to control him?"

T'Challa was more hesitant this time. "I can't say yes, and I can't say no. After all, Bucky would be afraid of them regardless. He would be stressed and running back anyways."

Nodding, Steve thought he vaguely understood. He wasn't one hundred percent sure, though. "It's the past, isn't it?" T'Challa nodded. "It's because of what Hydra had done to him before. It wouldn't matter. He'd be afraid anyways."

Nodding again, T'Challa added, "Fear can be a controlling factor. It can be blinding. Bucky feels helpless because of this. He feels without hope. And hope we must restore to him."

Near the end, T'Challa scrunched up his face in worry, though. It seemed that even the great king wasn't sure of many things, including how to do this. And as Steve paid attention, he knew that both of them had come to the same conclusion. There was something more going on. And it was bothering them. There was something that they still hadn't figured out about Bucky.

Silence reigned. Finally, Steve broke the silence. "I think I'd better check on Bucky."

T'Challa nodded. "I think you'd best as well."

(Steve Point of View)

Bucky was restless when Steve went in. He hadn't gone to sleep as they'd hoped. He was pacing back and forth in anxiety and anger. When Steve approached and the door locked behind him, the force field coming up, he still hadn't stopped pacing. Steve knew he'd heard. But he continued to act as if he didn't.

It hurt Steve to see him like this. "Bucky?" he called out softly, hoping for a good reaction from his best friend. He knew that it was too much to ask for, but even then he couldn't help but desire it.

It was unexpected, but Bucky snapped around, glaring at him, anger shaking his whole frame. "What?!" Bucky shouted. "I guess I'm just a child to be babysat?" he spat. Then he was back to pacing back and forth again.

Steve's mouth was open in shock. He didn't know what to say. After all, what could you answer a man who wasn't able to take any comfort?

He was stuttering. It was so unexpected. The way Bucky had been crying earlier, begging for comfort, he couldn't seem to understand why Bucky was so angry. "N-No!" was all that Steve could say, his shock still evident in his expression. Then he pulled himself together. "No! Not at all!"

Bucky was shaking harder than before. " _ **THEN WHY DO YOU HAVE TO PROTECT ME**_!" he shouted out loud, tears of anger running down his face.

Once more, Steve didn't know what to say. The only answer he could come up with he said in a small voice, "You protected me. You always protected me, Bucky."

Bucky seemed taken aback by this. For a while, it was like he didn't know what to say. Finally, he responded, "I don't want to be protected." But it was in a more shy and timid matter, a soft voice used. Tears softly flowed down his face, and Steve thought he saw a bit of fear in his expression.

Unable to hold himself back, Steve walked slowly up and enveloped Bucky in a hug. His friend couldn't help it. He started crying and burrowed his head into Steve's shoulder. "I don't want to be protected!" he sobbed again. "Why?! Why, Steve? I don't want to be protected!"

"I don't understand," Steve murmured softly. "Help me understand! Why are you holding back?"

"You do!" Bucky accused.

Steve tilted his head. How could he answer that when it was true? He decided to word his words carefully. "If you knew that I was going to do something to harm myself, and if you knew that I was going to shoot myself in the head, would you tell me where the guns were? Or would you keep that knowledge from me?"

Bucky stiffened. For a moment Steve thought that he'd said the wrong thing. Then, Bucky suddenly pushed Steve away with great force, and Steve could see that he was shaking in anger. "That's what this is about?" Bucky whispered. Steve's face was slowly shifting into horror. "Really?"

He didn't understand Bucky's mood. He wasn't entirely sure what would set him off and what wouldn't. He didn't even know how to answer Bucky.

Suddenly, Bucky launched himself at the door, pounding at the force field. Steve, after standing in shock for a minute, went up to pull Bucky away. But Bucky shrugged him off with violent force, tears in his eyes. "Leave me alone!" he yelled. Then he pounded on the door, almost panic in his expression, trying to tear down the door with his metal arm, the force field preventing him. "Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!"

There was such panic in his voice that Steve didn't know what to do. He'd never seen Bucky in such a state before while cognizant of who he was. He didn't know what to do for him. "Bucky!" he approached. But when Bucky swung his fist at him and shouted, "Get away!" Steve stood back and gave him more room. But he didn't stop trying to calm him. "Let me out!" Bucky continued to yell, the tears pouring down his eyes as he desperately tried to tear the plane down.

"Bucky!" Steve tried again.

"Stop!" Bucky shouted, his hands over his ears. "Stop! Stop!" When he was sure that Steve was done, he was back to his panicked state of trying to tear the door down. "Let me out!" he begged, and Steve could only watch in horror.

Suddenly, the door opened and the force field was let down. Three women stood there, a hypodermic needle in their hands. "NO!" Bucky begged. "NO! NO!" He backed up to get away from them as they advanced, but before they could advance more, he was leaping towards the door.

Steve jumped and caught him, wrestling him to the ground. "NO!" Bucky begged with tears, kicking back at Steve as Steve tried to restrain him. It was to no avail, however. Steve wrapped his arms in a tight grip and lay on top of him. One of the women injected the needle into him, the the rest did as well.

Bucky was limp and crying. Steve got off of him and nodded at the women as they exited, the door being replaced and the force field going back up.

Steve rocked Bucky as he cried himself to sleep.

 **I apologize for taking so long to update this. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.**

 **Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Confrontation

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Seven: Confrontation

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky listened carefully out the door of the Wakandan room he was in. It was tightly secured. He was curled up on his bed, knees to his chest, head on his knees.

"We don't know what set him off!" Steve argued outside the door.

"Exactly," King T'Challa emphasized. "He's done enough evasions for now. It's time we push for answers."

Bucky was trembling. He was in a cell, and he was slightly frightened. While he knew that the king didn't hold him responsible, at the same time he knew that they were getting ready to push him more. They weren't going to take no for an answer this time. He didn't know what to do. He was scared. He rocked back and forth slowly, gently, trying to soothe himself.

He didn't know why he was placed in a cell, exactly. He guessed it was because of his little outburst earlier. But he couldn't help it. He felt so trapped. He felt like a prisoner all the time, even with Steve.

They came inside, and though Bucky didn't look up, he could feel the sadness coming off Steve.

"Bucky," the king commanded, and he was firm. Evidently, Steve had lost the argument, probably through a silent conversation. He heard the door shut behind Steve and T'Challa, the force field coming up. "We're not going to take no for an answer this time. We want answers."

Shaking, Bucky didn't respond. He had nowhere to go. He was trapped.

Steve kneeled beside Bucky. Bucky felt Steve place a gentle hand on his knee. "Bucky, please," he begged. Tears rolled down Bucky's eyes. What could he possibly respond when his handler kept him so silent? He trembled more.

The king sat beside him and put a hand around his shoulders. The tears flowed more freely, and Bucky was shaking uncontrollably now. "Bucky," Steve pled again.

Bucky shook his head, his head still on his knees. "No," was his whisper, careful, controlled.

He didn't need to see their faces to know that they were disappointed. He only hoped that they weren't disappointed in him. "Bucky," Steve tried again.

"No!" Bucky replied with more force, shaking even harder.

The king sighed. "It doesn't matter. I've asked for Wanda's help. She'll be here soon."

Bucky let his head up immediately, embarrassed that his tears were showing. "Please don't!" he begged. But Steve shook his head slowly, sadly.

"We don't have a choice anymore, Buck," he sighed softly, standing up. "You're not giving us any options here."

Bucky shook his head again, more fervent. "No!" he plead. He was to guard his handler with his life. He couldn't let Wanda in his head. And he knew that she would be able to penetrate it. He was frightened.

Some part of Steve looked broken, and for the first time Bucky noticed that. "We don't have a choice," his voice cracked, and Bucky shook slightly. He had never meant to hurt Steve, and yet he knew he had.

T'Challa observed them both for a minute before sighing. He nodded to them both. "I'll give you to some time alone," he murmured softly. "I'll be back in here with Wanda in a few hours." The door opened and T'Challa walked out, the door shutting behind him and a force field coming up.

As soon as T'Challa was gone Buck burst into tears, his head on his knees again. Steve sat beside him and Bucky leaned against him. "Why?" he begged, though he knew why. Steve wanted the best for him, and Bucky was unable to give him that.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, and somehow it was far more comforting than when Rumlow did it. "I'm sorry, Buck," he whispered, rocking Bucky back and forth. Bucky sniffed, the tears falling silently now. "You know we wouldn't do this if we had any other choice."

"I know," Bucky finally confessed, and sighed, snuggling in further. He just wanted the comfort from the stress of this situation. Steve seemed to pick up on that and held him tighter. Slowly, his heart beat calmed down, and Bucky found himself relaxing. "It's hard." Everything, really, was hard for Bucky, at this point.

Steve squeezed him gently. "I know," he whispered. Rocking Bucky back and forth a little more, the two of them lapsed into silence. This left Bucky time to contemplate his situation. He wasn't sure how aware Rumlow was of everything going on. While he didn't think Rumlow would punish him as long as he tried his hardest, that didn't mean that the rest of Hydra wouldn't be so favorable with him failing. And that was one of the things that Bucky was afraid of. Disappointment. Disappointment from the rest of them, and the consequences as a result of that.

Neither of them wanted to talk. There was nothing they could say to each other to convince or comfort each other. But they both desperately wanted each others company, and they both knew that. So Steve continued to sit with Bucky, and Bucky continued to sit with Steve.

Finally, Bucky heard the footsteps of people approaching. He tensed. Steve put his hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, Bucky."

Despite that, Bucky was shaking as hard as a leaf. All he knew was that he was going to fail Rumlow. But he tried hard not to think about that, especially since Wanda was near.

The door opened, and T'Challa walked in. Wanda trailed him, and she curiously tilted her head when she saw the pure fear on Bucky's face. Steve rubbed his back, and nodded at Wanda. "I trust you know what this is about?"

Wanda nodded. "I was informed," she replied in her accented voice.

Sighing, Steve nodded, holding Bucky tightly so that he couldn't bolt. Bucky allowed Steve to hold him. He knew that escape was pointless, especially since he wouldn't make it out of the facility they were in. He knew that they'd prepared high security measures for him. The Wakandans were the only ones who could keep him in, at least right now.

Stepping up, being as gentle as she was able, Wanda asked, "Are you ready?" her voice was soft, sympathetic.

Sighing, Bucky shook his head. Looking at Steve, Wanda got the okay from him. She was well aware that this was being done without Bucky's consent due to the danger of the situation. Steve gripped Bucky even tighter. "No!" he chocked softly, but he didn't resist.

He was still, and was surprised when Wanda was gentle entering his mind. He winced, though, as she pushed easily passed some of his barriers. He did his best to bar her further, but he knew he was no match for Wanda who was an expert of the mind.

Groaning softly, tears falling down, he locked down to the best of his ability. But Wanda went in further. There was no stopping her. And finally, when she came across the part of his mind that was Rumlow, she frowned. Bucky knew she was going to investigate further, and that she did.

Neither Bucky nor Rumlow did anything. They didn't want to cue her in on anything. Rumlow retreated the best he could, but it was useless. Wanda went in further, pushing against everything.

Wanda was still frowning. "I don't understand," she tilted her head.

Steve was looking up at her in an instant. T'Challa's head snapped towards her. Bucky was trembling in Steve's arms. Apparently, both Steve and T'Challa had thought that it would be easy to get the information. "What do you mean?" T'Challa demanded.

Wanda was hesitant, but shook her head. "He's not the only one," she said. Bucky trembled. She knew. She had to know. He did his best to stop thinking about that, but it as pointless. She knew.

"W-what do you mean?" Steve pushed further, confusion and shock spreading through him. He looked down at Bucky in worry.

Shaking her head, Wanda paced. "How should I know! All I know is that Bucky isn't the only one there!"

"You mean split personality?" T'Challa suggested, trying to understand.

Wanda shook her head. "No, not another him. Someone completely different!"

"Someone is in his mind?" Steve echoed.

"No, not like that!" Wanda exclaimed, throwing here hands up. She paced more in agitation. "I've never seen anything like this before! I don't understand it! But it's like his soul, his _**essence**_ , is shared with someone else!"

"Shared?" Steve echoed, worry and confusion on his face also. The expression seemed to be spreading to everyone but Bucky. All he could think about was that she knew. His most treasured secret that he was supposed to guard, she knew. Her powers may not have been able to let her read his memories, as long as he didn't bring it up to the forefront of his mind, but that didn't mean that she couldn't sense around and feel Rumlow's presence in his soul.

Bucky was shaking hard. Steve rubbed his back in an effort to stop his shakiness. He turned back to Wanda. "Shared?" he echoed.

Wanda shook her head again, throwing her hands in the air, still pacing. "I don't know!" she cried as if it was the millionth time. "But he's not in complete possession of himself. That's all know!"

"Not in complete possession," T'Challa echoed, his hand going to his chin. He looked at the shaking Bucky closely, and Bucky closed his eyes, turning away, in tears. She knew. It was only a matter of time before the others knew. And when T'Challa saw this, he turned to Wanda. "Do you mind showing me what you saw?"

"No!" Bucky exclaimed, even though he knew it was pointless. But he hated it. He felt so violated. And what was he going to say to Brock now?

Glancing at Bucky, knowing that he was uncomfortable with it, Wanda none the less nodded. Then she looked at Steve. "Do you want to as well?"

Steve was hesitant. Bucky began shaking even harder. Out of everyone, he wanted Steve to know the least. Maybe it was because he was ashamed of his little secret. Or maybe it was because he didn't want Steve to end up judging him, even though he knew his best friend wouldn't. Steve was very concerned about him.

Steve continued watching Bucky. "I-I... no... I can't..." He looked up to Wanda in a torn decision, feeling pain that Bucky was going through all of this, needing to know, but unwilling to humiliate Bucky any more.

Wanda nodded and turned to T'Challa. "Ready?" she asked T'Challa nodded. Closing her eyes, T'Challa doing the same, she sent the memories over. T'Challa's eyes clouded, and for a moment, his expressions were confused. Then his face cleared and he turned to Bucky, concern and care in his eyes. Bucky turned away, burrowing his head into Steve's shoulder. He heard T'Challa approach.

As the king knelt beside him, Bucky tried to pull away. "It's all right," Steve comforted him, well aware that he was like a frightened child right now. Mainly, he was frightened of the consequences now that Wanda had gotten close to the truth.

When he finally managed to look at T'Challa, the man was looking at him in concern. "Is this why you were frightened?" the king asked, even though he knew that Bucky wouldn't respond to him. When Bucky said nothing, T'Challa continued. "Why don't you want to tell us?"

Bucky shook. But he felt a prompting from his handler. Apparently it was time for more truth. "Can't," was his only reply.

T'Challa's eyebrows, and everyone's for that matter, went up. "Can't?" T'Challa echoed.

Shaking his head, not wanting to answer any more, Bucky repeated, "Can't."

Steve's face was full of brotherly affection for him. "Why not?" he murmured softly, trying to coax Bucky into saying more. Wanda was watching him closely, and both he and Rumlow were aware that Wanda might try to go into his mind at any moment. He eyed her warily.

"He won't let me," was all Bucky could say.

"What do you mean 'won't'?" Steve pushed further, trying to get Bucky to open up further. Bucky shook his head. He wasn't sure what else to say. "You don't have to be scared of him," Steve prompted again.

Shivering, but calming down slightly, Bucky turned away. "Can't," he replied. "He won't let me."

"Don't be afraid," T'Challa murmured softly, encouraging. "Don't be afraid to defy him. You're strong. You can do this."

"It's not a matter of want!" Bucky shed tears, turning back to Steve's shoulder. "And it wouldn't matter if I wanted to. I still can't."

Steve's expression changed to an ominous confusion. He and T'Challa looked at each other. "What do you mean, Buck?" he asked, almost choking in fear and confusion.

Bucky looked up briefly.

"He can control me."

(Some time later)

(Steve Point of View)

Steve was still shaking. They'd put Bucky to bed, but his confession was still ringing in everyone's heads. The idea of Bucky being controlled was enough to send a shiver down Steve's spine. It made him feel almost helpless to help Bucky. He didn't know what to do.

But other questions rang. If Bucky was being controlled, then why was it that he was suddenly allowed to say this? Logic stated that Bucky had been prevented from telling them before, but now something had changed. So why? And it was enough to send another shudder down Steve's spine. He thought about the attack in Wakanda. He had no doubt that they were all pawns.

Shivering again, he turned away. He was just outside Bucky's room and he didn't want to disturb him. He began pacing.

He was upset. He took that back. He was more than upset. He was furious. No one hurt Bucky! And just looking at his poor friend, he knew Bucky was suffering from what ever had been done to him to force him, to control him.

T'Challa put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "You're anger isn't going to help him. Only by clearing your mind will you be able to find a solution to free him."

But Steve was still shaking. "He's being controlled, T'Challa! They're hurting him!"

"It's all right to be mad," T'Challa comforted him. "But in the end, we still need a free and open mind to help him. Without a clear head, we are bound to make mistakes that could cost him. This is a critical period. You and I both know that."

Still shaking, Steve sat down. He took a deep breath. "You're right," he conceded. It still didn't make him feel better, though. At this point, nothing would make him feel better. "You're right," he breathed. There were tears in his eyes and he looked up at T'Challa who was staring down at him in concern. "But what do we do? He's a pawn, and he's caught in the middle of this. If we do anything to them, he still gets hurt. And if we do nothing, he's hurt anyways. Either way, he looses-we loose."

Sighing, T'Challa sat beside him. "I know. But we have no choice. Let me put it this way: would you rather see him hurt now, even if it's greater hurt, knowing that there's a possibility that he could be free in the future? Or do you want him to continually suffer for the rest of his life?"

The environment was electric. "That's tough," Steve whispered, silent tears rolling down his face. It was a hard decision, but he knew he had to make it. "I guess-I guess I would rather let him suffer now so that he doesn't have to suffer in the future. Although, I'm not sure he sees it that way."

"I know," T'Challa was soft, looking away in thought.

But something else was bothering Steve. "How do we know that this gamble will even work? We don't know the outcome! For all we know, it could make Bucky suffer worse, and there's no benefit; we could end up failing!"

"But we have to try!" T'Challa commanded, turning back. "There is more than Bucky's life at stake."

"What about his rights!" Steve protested. "Is it right to make one person suffer just so that many can get away? No!"

Steve got up and began pacing again. "Calm down!" T'Challa commanded, standing up as well. "I never said that we were going to make him suffer. Right now, we can't do anything. We have to be very careful. For all we know, we're falling into a trap! The only thing we have left is patience and to wait and see what happens!"

Stress was in his face. He wiped his hand over his face, but he stopped pacing. Turning slowly back to T'Challa, Steve gave him the most hurtful look he could manage. "I would give anything to see him well again."

"I know you would," T'Challa was confident. "But for now we must wait. Only time will tell the path we must take."

Steve nodded. "Seems fair," he reluctantly admitted.

Sighing, the two of them sat on the couch.

(Rumlow Point of View)

He could sense his Asset's stress in an extreme sense. Sending him comfort, he sighed and paced. Rumlow did not like the turn of things.

He was in his house, pacing. His room, his safe place, had a desk filled with dossiers on potential victims, people Hydra intended to target in the future. Some of them were already deceased, though. Some of them had already been targeted and taken out.

Rubbing his chin, Brock thought hard. It was a bit too early to have the reveal, yes, but this could still work. That much he knew. Really, there was no point denying things once Wanda was involved in the equation. It was only a matter of time. And so, Brock decided he'd rather do it on his terms.

He'd held a council with his top Hydra agents earlier. Everything was all in motion and set. For now, they were going to leave the Asset in the care of Wakanda and his assigned guardian. It didn't matter anyways. They still had a way to talk to him and control him. There was no way that Bucky could deny the bond. Whether he had Bucky's loyalty or not, it didn't matter. The Winter Soldier still worked for him, worked for Hydra.

No, the real problem was the potential threats to his Asset that were unforeseen. No matter what, he still didn't want any harm to come to Bucky. Bucky was first and foremost his. And what was more, he really did care about Bucky.

More fear and discomfort came. He sent his Asset comfort, almost shushing him gently. He had no idea how to soothe his Asset's fears, but all he could do was keep trying.

Barnes' stress was getting to Rumlow. He could only hope that now that Bucky had revealed most of the secret, things would be easier for him now. He wouldn't have all the pressure to reveal where he was going and to talk. But he also knew that that didn't stop it completely.

"What he needs is rest," he murmured to himself. Sometimes they had to drug Bucky up because the poor man had troubles sleeping.

His phone rang. Taking it out of his pocket and answering it quickly, Brock roughly snapped, "Hello?"

"Sir," Jack was on the other end, his tone concerned. Rumlow was immediately on edge. "There's a bit of a situation here."

Immediately, Brock was hesitant. A situation could mean many things, and from Jack's tone, he knew that the man wasn't going to say everything personally for some reason. There must be someone else that could overhear on the other line. His tone was meant to subtly get Brock's attention that caution was needed. Deciding to proceed forth carefully, but trying to appear normal, he kept his tone even. "Yes?"

The authority and calmness in his tone was enough to ease Rollin's tension, he could tell. The next response was with a bit more ease. "Ms. Sokolov refuses to send the assistance required."

Instantly, Brock was at ease. He knew that the woman was playing a game but no threat. The two of them were close and friendly with one another. She trusted him exclusively and Brock trusted her. Whatever her reasons, he knew that she was either going to want to discuss them in person, or she wanted to discuss them over the phone directly with him. She must not have trusted Jack, though why, he didn't know.

"Let me guess, she wants to talk on the phone with me?" Brock slightly chuckled humorously.

Jack seemed surprised, taken aback even. "Why... yes... How did you know?"

Chuckling a bit, Brock shook his head. "Let her on the phone," he encouraged.

There was a bit of rustling, and then the phone was handed over. "Brock," he heard a calm woman's voice over the phone, business like, yet warm and friendly. "It's good to hear from you again."

"It's good to hear from you too, Yana," he murmured softly, sighing. "It's only been what, three hours? Couldn't stop hearing from me?"

"No, not really!" she chuckled, and Rumlow laughed freely as well. It was light laugh. He really did enjoy spending time with her whenever he had to meet with her for business reasons. Not that he would admit it to himself.

"So," Rumlow decided to get straight down to business. "What was it that was on you're mind?"

"Yes," the woman met with slight disapproval. He could hear a little bit of a frown in her tone. "I don't personally think it's meet to send anyone near the Asset, or rather 'Bucky' quite yet. In fact, I highly advise against it."

"Oh?" Rumlow raised his eyebrows. She was the only one that he would allow to get away with insubordination like this. "And what seems to be the reason?" There was a bit of teasing in his voice, and next thing he knew it was being mimicked back to him.

"Why do you think?" she playfully mocked, and Rumlow rolled his eyes. Then she sighed and got serious. "For your idea to work, we need them to believe they have a sense of security with him. We need them to think that they have more control over him than they realize. Yes, I know you let your little secret out, but think about it: if you could make them think that they can trap Bucky there, they might be able to let down their guard enough for our plan to succeed."

"You mean, my plan?" Rumlow teased her. Then he was back to business. "You know that I have to have him at least once a month."

"I know," she concluded, seemingly finding it no big deal. "And we don't need to keep him very long. Just take him and then let him go back before anyone notices."

Rumlow was serious. "Do you really think we can pull that off without anyone noticing?"

She seemed to put some thought into it before answering again. "Yes," she admitted. "If we play it carefully enough, we can. Let others take care of the assignments you would have given him for now, and let him focus on integrating with the Avengers."

Rumlow gave it some thought. It made sense. She always had great ideas. He sighed. "Very well," he conceded. "You win this round." He had to admit, after all, that it was excellent advice. She caught the flaws with his plans that he never did, not that he had very many. Then again, all the Hydra leaders had had flaws with their plans, and they needed someone like her that could catch them. And, of course, she had a brilliant mind.

"I know you do," she gloated slightly in a playful manner. Then there was rustling and Rumlow knew that the phone was being handed back.

Nothing could have prepared him for Jack's confused tone. "Is everything all right, sir?" he asked, perplexed. Rumlow burst out laugh. Poor Rollins probably didn't know what was going on, and he wasn't even going to inform him. Rumlow wasn't even going to admit it to himself.

"Absolutely," Rumlow replied, shaking his head again. Then he was back to business. "Listen, you need to do what Irina says to do. I think her suggestion is for the best."

"Sir?" Rollins asked confusion.

Rumlow chuckled again. The poor guy was blind. "I've got to go," he informed Jack. "Bye."

There was hesitation, more confusion. "Okay... Bye... I think."

Snickering, Rumlow hung up the phone. Then he face palmed and realized. This had better not go public. He didn't want to deal with the teasing and the implications should someone say a word.

Jack had better not say a word.

(Bucky Point of View)

Tears continued rolling down Bucky's face, and Bucky held on desperately to the comfort Rumlow was administering. The last thing he wanted was to feel caught between two people. He didn't know for how long he'd been crying for, but for a brief moment he felt Rumlow's feelings. Something lighthearted was happening. He groaned, somewhat jealous, turning on his stomach and stuffing his head in the pillows provided. It wasn't fair! Why couldn't he have those times?

Groaning, he stayed that way, breathing in and out until he heard footsteps. The door opened, and Bucky listened to Steve's careful footsteps walk towards the bed. He could always identify Steve's footsteps as the man had a certain way of walking. He knew Steve's footsteps like the back of his hand.

Steve sat beside him, gently patting his back. "Are you hungry?" he asked. "You missed dinner. We unlocked the door, but you didn't come out."

Bucky shook his head. He wasn't really hungry, and he didn't want to talk about it. But he didn't deny that he could hear the concern in his friend's voice. So he replied, "I'm really tired, Steve." He knew that his voice was monotone and without emotion, but he couldn't help it.

A sigh was heard from Steve. "I don't know what to do for you, Bucky. I wish I could take your pain away!"

Bucky turned on his side, his tear streaks still visible. "I know."

The two of them looked at each other for a long time. For the first time, Bucky noticed the pain on Steve's face. It was then that he realized how much he had been hurting Steve by accident. For so long, all he had known was that he was suffering. But now, he realized that it wasn't just him suffering. Steve was so close to him that he was suffering as well. There was no way around it and no way to change it. And by leaving Steve, he'd been causing his poor friend unbearable emotional pain.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, tears coming out. He'd hurt his friend and he couldn't even help it. "I'm so sorry!"

Steve looked heart broken. He gently took Bucky's flesh and blood hand in his. "You didn't do anything wrong!" Steve insisted. "You have nothing to apologize for!"

"But I do," Bucky argued, all his emotions coming out of him. He went on in a rant, the words coming off him quickly as the pain poured out. "Gosh, I was so selfish, Steve! All I knew was that I was in pain, and I didn't stop to consider that maybe you were in pain too! I remember it, I remember being in pain when you were so sick and could hardly breathe. And the worst part was I thought I was going to loose you. And there was nothing I could do! But now that I look on it, I'm doing the same think you unintentionally did to me! I've been so focused on how _**I've**_ been feeling, that I didn't stop to consider that maybe my pain is causing you pain!

"I thought staying away would be better. I thought I was a burden to you. That's why I stayed away after project Insight. I was so scared, so confused. I didn't really know who I was, and I had so much to work through. But all I knew was that we had been close, and that I had hurt you. I was afraid to hurt you again, afraid to face you, afraid you'd be disappointed in me, or worse. And, I was afraid of your rejection. I thought maybe you wouldn't want you anymore. I wouldn't want _**me**_ anymore! I didn't want to keep causing you pain. I thought you would move on without me, that you **_could_** move on without me!

"And the more memories came back, the more it hurt. I didn't want to hurt you anymore, so I stayed away. But now that I think back on it, it was a mistake. I was hurting you by staying away. And now, keeping all these memories and feelings in, I see how much of a toll it's taking on you. You wanted to share the pain with me, help me cope, but I was pushing you away. I thought I was protecting you from all the horror by doing it, but now that I look on it, I realize that I was being selfish. I was making things worse! You had no idea what was going on with me, let alone how to help me. That was causing you pain and nightmares, more so than if I'd been upfront with you!"

After saying is monologue, he let out some deep breaths. Steve had tears in his eyes and gently placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "It's not your fault," he forgave him. "You said it yourself, you were being controlled. It's not your fault, Buck."

"But it was," Bucky argued, turning back to him. "I could still have talked about some of my emotions. And before the whole Hydra kidnapping thing, I was still closed off to you. I should have been more open. Maybe, then, I would have hurt you less."

"It's understandable," Steve comforted, love in his eyes. "You've been through a lot. Trust is going to be a hard thing to do for a while. And in truth, some of it was my fault. I pushed you so much because I didn't understand, and you were needing your space. But now I think I finally understand. I won't push you so hard again in the future."

"But I should have trusted _**you**_ ," Bucky breathed, looking directly into Steve's eyes. "You're my best friend. I should have known that there was no way you were going to make me feel worse about everything. There was no way you were going to judge me. It was all a fantasy in my head!"

Steve smiled sadly, tears in his eyes again. "It's okay," he reassured. "We can always try again, right?"

A chuckle escaped Bucky, as well as relief. Dang! Now the tears were flowing down **_his_** eyes again. "Yeah," he muttered softly, red faced and sheepish. "We always can."

Nodding, an awkwardness came between them. Steve was silent for a minute. "Do you _**want**_ to talk?" he offered.

Bucky shrugged. "I'm not sure what we'd talk about. But all right."

There was silence again as Steve paused. He seemed to be thinking of a question. "How much?" Steve asked. Bucky tilted his head in confusion and stared at Steve. The man shook his head before asking Bucky again, "How much are you able to tell us?"

A shudder went down Bucky's spine, but he nodded. "Not much," he admitted. "Only what he'll allow."

"And what is that?" Steve questioned. "And who his 'he'?"

"Only what I've already told you," Bucky replied. But he wasn't as careful. He knew that Steve knew the limits now. There was no way that his best friend was going to trick anything out of him as he knew the boundaries. And Bucky wouldn't have been able to answer with incriminating evidence anyways. The bond prevented it. "As for 'he', I'm not allowed to say."

Steve nodded. There was thought on his face. "It's Rumlow, isn't it?" his face was a soft expression. Bucky went stalk still, his mouth opening and closing. He didn't know what to say. Steve nodded, taking that as his answer. "I suspected, in truth, from the moment you told me you were being controlled. And it makes sense, really."

Now it was Bucky's turn to pry for information. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked his worries. "And who all knows? Who have you told?"

Steve huffed out some air in stress and concern, but he was fairly open with Bucky. "We know that they wouldn't let you reveal this without a reason. T'Challa wants to wait this out, see what happens. You'll be staying with us for a while, hopefully. But I suspect, since he can control you, that if he wanted you to leave, there would be no stopping you. T'Challa doesn't seem to think so, though. He disagrees with my insight, probably out of pride for Wakanda. I know you, though. I know what you're capable of.

"Regardless, we won't do anything yet, unless we have reason to, which I don't know why we would. And as far as telling this to others, we're keeping it pretty tight lipped for now. The last thing we need getting out is that the Winter Soldier is being controlled again. That wouldn't go over well with the mass or the crowds. So the only people who know are the people in this facility, which includes, T'Challa, myself, Wanda, Sam, and Clint."

Bucky perked up. "Clint's here?" he asked in surprised. Steve nodded but pursed his lips. Bucky could tell that the two of them had just barely made up, however Steve was still mad. It would take him time to calm down.

"Clint wants to talk to you in person," Steve announced suddenly, mysteriously.

Bucky tilted his head in question. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

Steve shook his head. "We talked. There was something he was needing to talk to you about in order to help you... understand. I know why he did what he did now. I'm not saying that I approve. Quite the opposite, really! But... I understand. It still didn't make it right, though."

His friend turned away after that. The only thing that Bucky could conclude was that whatever was spoken between the two of them, it had upset Steve yet had given him a different perspective after that. And it might have made him even more mad.

There was silence between the two of them after that. It wasn't awkward like before, but there was definite tension in the air. Nevertheless, they enjoyed each others' companionship. The two of them missed each other dearly, and they both knew it.

After a while, Steve broke the silence. "Bucky," he approached, and there was a serious expression on his face.

For once, Bucky wasn't careful around Steve. They were both going to be more open. He knew that. "Yes?" he asked.

A sigh escaped his friend. "I once thought Rumlow was my friend. I trusted him with my life at one point, and then he betrayed me. I never saw it coming. Yes, I know he can control you now, but I don't want you to be fooled by his nature. Rumlow says a lot of things, but he doesn't necessarily mean them. I...I just don't want you to get hurt more than you are. I don't want you to be disappointed."

Something inside Bucky made him squirm. "I know when Brock's being serious, Steve." Steve rose his eyebrows when he heard Bucky call Rumlow by his first name, but he didn't question. "I know that he's dangerous, Steve," he continued, pressing on. "And I'm as careful as I can be. But this...what we're going through... it's not exactly like anything you've faced. I can't explain it, and I'm not allowed to anyways. But Brock does care for me, in his own twisted way."

"Define care," Steve was monotone.

Fidgeting again in discomfort, nonetheless he was as open as possible. "He knows my feelings," Bucky confessed. "And he takes them into account when he can. It's just... his priorities... aren't like the average person. You see, he may care for me, but he always puts Hydra first, and that's hard. He gives me comfort when he can, though, because he knows how hard this is on me." And as an afterthought, he added, "He feels betrayed by you. He's angry at you. I suspect he did see you as a friend initially. It's just his priorities were always Hydra, even if it meant betraying a friend."

Silence reigned again, and Bucky could tell that Steve was processing this information. He wasn't happy about it, but he seemed to accept it. Next thing he knew, his friend turned to him. "Just be careful around him," he cautioned.

A wry smile lit Bucky's face. "I'm always careful," he confessed, and it was true. He sighed and then continued. "But Brock isn't going to let anything bad happen to me." When he saw Steve's expression, Bucky's face lit up in horror. "That's not what I meant!" he exclaimed. Then he took a deep breath to calm down. "Let me explain! What I mean is he isn't going to send me on a suicide mission. He's always careful for my safety."

But this only caused a concerned expression to come on Steve's face. And it was after that that he realized what he said. "What do you mean 'mission'?" he inquired softly of Bucky.

Ice filled the air. "It's hard to explain," Bucky confessed up front. At a prompting from his handler, he told some of the truth. "He made me turn in some of Tony's data to him."

"Stark tech?" Steve's face filled with horror. Bucky nodded reluctantly. That's when he knew: this was a trap. Rumlow was somehow trapping his friends by manipulating them. That's why he was letting Bucky tell the truth. And Steve had suspected. But Brock was gambling that Steve's emotions over Bucky might get the better of him, hamper his ability to think straight. And he was right. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to say anything there.

Steve's face was still filled with horror, and Bucky shifted uncomfortably. He was frozen, and Bucky didn't know what else to do. "Steve?" he prompted after a few minutes when Steve didn't move anymore. He'd never seen Steve like this before, and he hoped he never would again. "Steve? You've got me a bit concerned here."

Steve shook his head, coming out of his shock. "Sorry," Steve murmured, still shaken. "I-I'm just a little...well..."

"I understand," Bucky murmured, drawing a pattern into the bed sheets.

Things were awkward after that. Steve didn't ask any more questions, respecting Bucky's space, which Bucky was grateful for. They stayed in silence for some time.

It wasn't long before Steve sighed. "I've got to go," he heard his friend regretfully say.

Bucky looked up. "Am I still going to be trapped in here?" he asked Steve.

What happened next took Bucky by surprise. Steve had such a heartbroken look on his face that Bucky felt immediately guilty for the question. "Oh, Bucky!" he exclaimed. He came over and wrapped Bucky in a massive bear hug, squeezing him so tightly that Bucky felt like he was going to break. Bucky nudged himself closer. "No, no," Steve murmured softly into his shoulder. "It's not going to be forever. I just have to figure out some details with the king, and then we'll be back to releasing you again. Granted, we're probably not going to let you go anywhere alone. I hope you understand."

"I do," Bucky mumbled against the cloth of Steve's shirt. And the truth was, for the first time he did. That didn't make him feel any less caged, though. He still felt very trapped regardless.

It took a while, and Steve wasn't about to pull away, so Bucky had to. With a sigh, he released his best friend.

Tears were rolling down Steve's face. "I'll be back," he promised Bucky. "I'm not going to abandon you. I promise."

Bucky nodded firmly. He knew that Steve was too attached to him to do so.

"See ya," he yawned. Then he plopped back down on his bed as Steve made his way to the door.

Bucky noticed Steve stop for the briefest moment, glancing lovingly at Bucky. Then he exited.

Bucky was on his own.

(A few days later)

(Rumlow Point of View)

"Where are we at?"

Rumlow was marching confidently forward, his personnel scrambling to get out of his way. They'd just had another successful raid on one of their enemies, and they'd gained tons of intel. All the heads of Hydra were congratulating him for all the success that he'd had. He'd done more than any other leader to forward Hydra's goals, especially in such a short period of time, more so than even the Red Skull. Even more, he had the largest personnel already that any Hydra commander had ever had. His recruiting mission was an extreme success.

Granted, he was still concerned about Striker and his team out there. But that was the least of his concerns right now.

Jack nodded to him. They were underground in a different Hydra facility, but it was laid out very similarly to the others. However, this was not always the case, for security reasons. Even then, Rumlow had plans with the new funds to change things up to make the base more secure and less predictable to outsiders. He needed that, especially with Striker.

It was a conference room, and Brock seated himself at the head. Jack was on his right, the assumed pseudo-second-in-command. No one but Brock knew who the real commander of Hydra was, the heir and next in line. Not that there would be another leader now that he and Bucky were tied so intricately together. He had no idea what Hydra was going to do if they ever lost him.

"We've located a few more resources," Jack explained, the rest of the personnel sitting down. "I piled together the list and details for you." Jack tossed him a dossier, and Rumlow caught. Opening it, he read the files with satisfaction.

Brock grunted in approval. The first one sounded just like a mission for the Asset. It would be done on his timeline, though. However, there was one more thing he was wanting to do...

"Any location on Striker?"

The personnel looked at each other. "We have a possible location," Jack confessed. "But we're not one hundred percent sure."

"Make it one hundred percent sure," Brock ordered, getting up. That man had been a pain in his side for long enough. "I want him gone."

Jack nodded. "Yes, sir," he obeyed, and Brock dismissed everyone, walking out the door.

As the people filed out after him, Jack caught up to him. "So, when are you taking Bucky out of Wakanda's hands?"

Brock shrugged. "It will have to be sometime soon," he admitted. "The doc said one week. As for exactly when, I want to time it perfectly. All we need to do is give him his medication, and then we can send him back."

"Sounds like a dangerous mission," Jack commented. "And a dangerous trip."

"And your coming," Brock ordered, a small smirk on his face.

Jack shrugged, seemingly unphased. "Sounds fair." Brock nodded. "After that?" Jack was quick to ask more questions.

Sighing, considering everything, Brock confessed, "There's not much more we can do. I can have him to try to give me intel, but with everyone knowing what's going on, there's no way of knowing how accurate it will be. I'd rather find out from other sources."

"Still doesn't hurt to ask," Jack pointed out. "It will keep him in line. It will make sure that he knows that he's still on a mission. And for us, none the less."

"Oh, he knows," Brock had a mild warning in his tone. "He can't not know. He lives it every day."

Cocking his head in curiosity, Jack asked, side by side with his leader, "Is it the bond? Is it his feelings?"

Brock sighed, slight frustration in his eyes. He closed his eyes for a second, stress on his face. "After all this time, I _ **still**_ don't have his loyalty!"

"Well, that's why the Asset had to be forced," Jack pointed out. "Hydra knew they would never have his loyalty otherwise. That's why they turned him into a mindless machine." Jack then chuckled humorlessly. "Of course, in hindsight, we now know that that wasn't exactly the case."

"What are you suggesting?" Brock questioned. Briefly, the memory of seeing Pierce order the mind wipe on Bucky came to mind. He could still hear his precious Asset's screams. Then there was the horrid memories of the training on top of it. As it was, he'd never get those terrible memories out of his mind. "Surely you're not suggesting that I continue what my predecessors did?"

"Not really," Jack cautiously approached. "I know what he means to you. I can see it. It's just like with Pierce, you have this fondness of him. But I also know the practicalities of what is needed. I'm know that you have a connection to him and you're harmed if he is harmed. It's unusual and unheard of, really. And I know that you don't really want to see him in pain. I'm not saying that we can't be gentle with him, can't put on the kid gloves **_occasionally_** , so to speak, and certainly not _**all the time**_. But we have to do **_something_**. That may mean being more stern with him. It may seem harsh, but in the long term, it's better for him _**and**_ you."

At the disturbed look on Brock's face, Jack added, "Hey, I'm not suggesting training or torture. I'm not suggesting inflicting pain on him. But he needs to know his place. We need to stop using the kid gloves on him as we've been using it too often."

"He knows," Brock pointed out.

"But it needs to be _**emphasized**_ ," Jack continued. "That's what he's lacking, proper structure."

Brock stopped suddenly. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Are you saying I'm too soft on him? What else can I do?"

Jack stopped as well. "It's not about how soft you are," Jack replied, and there was sympathy in his eyes. "You're so close to him that sometimes you don't see everything. Yes, I know that you want him comfortable. And it's a noble idea. But you're not going to get everywhere with him by giving him pure comfort. He needs to know the rules, what is expected of him."

When Brock made a move to jump in, Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know that he knows the rules. But there aren't any _**real**_ consequences to when he breaks them. Look, I'm not suggesting we use physical punishment. I know that that makes you uncomfortable. It makes _**me**_ uncomfortable. But simply rebuking him with words or a slap on the wrist isn't enough. You need _**real**_ consequences. At the very least, you need to take away privileges. Maybe you should make him sleep in a cell for the night, think on things."

Thinking on these things, Brock realized that he knew where Jack was coming from. "We're still going to work with him, be nice to him," Jack reassured him. "We're going to _**try**_ to make him comfortable. But it's time he plays by the rules."

Sighing, Brock nodded. It was reasonable. After all, it's not like his personnel could control his Asset. Only he could. He needed to give them a hand. "Very well," Brock approved. "I'll think on things. It will take some thought on him and his personality to deem an appropriate punishment when he misbehaves."

"And with time, I think we can guide him and his behavior," Jack reassured him. "His discomfort with Hydra is evident, and understandable. But, if we can remove at least some of that discomfort, change his mind some, then we can move towards integrating him with the personnel more."

"You know he'll never be free," Brock cautioned. "I can't undo what my predecessors did there. Once a slave, always a slave. He won't have free status, ever."

"And he shouldn't," Jack agreed. "It's a consequence to him for working against Hydra to begin with, instead of initially joining Hydra. But that doesn't mean that he can't have some privileges that he's now lacking."

Brock nodded. "That's reasonable." Nodding at Jack, he moved forward. "I'll let you know when I have him."

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky groaned some. He could feel the tug from his handler and he knew that he wanted to meet. Groaning more, he sat up in his bed. It was dark outside. He just had to get passed the Wakandan personnel. Chances are, he would be back before they noticed anything.

Prying the door open softly, and soundlessly closing it, he slipped passed the guards, moving into the night.

Brock was near the edge of the island in a tiny yacht. Motioning his Asset on board, Bucky cautiously approached. As soon as he was on board, the ship cloaked again, and Bucky jumped, startled.

Brock put his hand around his shoulders, guiding him underneath the deck. "Come on," he encouraged.

The doctors were waiting for Bucky. He shuddered, but obeyed none the less. In minutes, they had him hooked up to an IV, and then the drip started.

Immediately, a calm feeling entered Bucky. Brock was unsteady for a few minutes. "At the very least, it will be a month before he'll need another IV," Bucky heard one of the doctors talk. "He's accepting the medication well."

Bucky shuddered. In the corner of his eyes, he saw the door open and close. Jack Rollins was now here. A part of him groaned. He had a whole team working against him. It was only a matter of time before he couldn't hold out any longer. And he had no doubt that his handler knew that.

Sensing his distress, Brock sent him some comfort. "Relax," he encouraged him.

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, leaning back into the chair. "How long will I be on the drip for?" he felt strangely calm.

"Until we say otherwise," Brock was firm. Sensing a difference in his demeanor towards him, Bucky looked up, curious. Jack had a firm look on him as well. Slowly, Bucky's eyes traveled back to his handler.

"I don't understand," was the first words out of Bucky's mouth. There was something different this time around. Something had changed.

With a huff and a sigh, Brock motioned all the personnel out. Even Jack left, but not before glancing at Bucky, like he knew something was going on. This was when Bucky started really feeling afraid. Shuddering, he heard the door close. Brock held up a hand and sent him calm feelings. "Relax," he encouraged. "I just want to talk."

Bucky was still nervous. Pulling up a chair, Brock sat beside him. He gazed at Bucky with fondness for a good while longer before nodding to himself and beginning. "You know that there are rules here," he began. Bucky was wide eyed and staring at him. "It's been brought to my attention that I've been a bit to... lenient on you. I need to be more firm and strict with you from now on."

Bucky's eyes widened more. He was afraid. What would that mean for him in the future?

"Relax," Brock encouraged more, sending him comfort through the bond. Bucky couldn't help but whimper some. "It's not what you think. I'm not going to hurt you, I swear." He let Bucky brood on that for a moment. Bucky could barely meet his handler's eyes. Putting a finger under his chin, Brock forced Bucky to look up and into his eyes. "But you've been providing my personnel with a lot of problems. Hydra demands obedience, and obedience they're going to get. I've been soft with you. I've given you more privileges than you've ever had. It's time that we have accountability for those privileges. From now on, if you want those privileges to continue, you're going to have to work harder at obedience."

Bucky was trembling. He didn't like where this was going. "I don't understand," was all he could say.

Brock nodded and placed his smaller hands on his shoulders. "I know," he whispered softly, sending comfort. "And I know it's going to be confusing for a while. You're not in trouble, I swear. All I'm saying is that from now on, I'm going to try a different approach with you. But we're not going to be mean about it. All I'm saying is that you have to earn your keep."

"I don't earn my keep?" Bucky frowned. He thought that was why he was serving Hydra, albeit with force.

Shaking his head, Brock replied, "Wrong words. What I'm saying is I don't want you complaining anymore. You're to do as you're told without complaint. And, what's more, you're to be led around quietly. No more resisting Hydra. If someone tells you to do something, you do it, no questions asked. No complaining about what you're being asked to do, and no more trouble making either. No more tantrums. If you do this, you'll be rewarded. But if not, you're going to start loosing privileges."

"You're going to punish me?" Bucky was cautious.

Brock's eyes widened. "No! No! I think the word 'punishment' sends the wrong impression, considering what the word means to you. But, yes, I suppose it is a form of punishment. But we aren't going to do anything physical, not unless we have to. In fact, I have no intention of doing anything physical. But, you'll certainly loose privileges, like seeing Steve for one. The bottom line is that you can either cooperate and be rewarded, or you can have privileges, like seeing Steve, taken away."

Bucky shuddered. The game had changed, and it had changed while he was gone. He didn't like this.

"I know you don't like it," Brock murmured softly, sending some comfort. "But this is how it is from now on. Like I've said, I've let you get away with a lot of things while you were with Hydra. My personnel are nervous with you, and they're having a hard time handling you. That's not how it should be. I shouldn't have to interfere to make you cooperate each time just because you don't want to do it. You're not always going to be told why things are being done. You need to follow orders blindly, even if you're scared."

As he sensed his Asset trembling, Brock put an arm around his shoulders. "This is probably not going to change things. I'm looking at integrating you with my personnel, making you more comfortable around them. But to do that, I need your cooperation."

"I fight because I'm scared," Bucky trembled. Tears were silently sliding down his cheeks, and Brock squeezed him tight, using his fingers to brush the tears away. "I don't want to be hurt."

"You won't be hurt," Brock reassured him. "I need you to trust me. But I can't have you pulling the stunts anymore that you've been pulling. We're going to help you with your fear and anxiety. But we're also not going to tolerate the temper tantrums any longer. Just cooperate, and things will be fine."

The tears flowed faster, and Bucky cried. Brock squeezed him more. This was all so unexpected, and for the first time, he didn't know what his future with Hydra held. He was scared. "It'll be all right," Brock assured him. "Nothing else has changed. Life is going to go on, as usual. You don't need to be scared. After this, as long as you're good, you can go back to Steve again."

But there was one more implication that had Bucky terrified. "I don't want to open my heart to a complete stranger!" Bucky begged. "I don't want therapy!"

"Bucky," Brock was patient and gentle. "I want you to do well with Hydra, and I want you to be able to enjoy your privileges. But a lot of these outbursts are because of your out of control emotions, which is understandable, really. I'm not giving you an option, there. You **_have_** to open your heart and feelings up. That's the only way to help you."

Bucky was shaking his head, crying. "No!"

"It's not an option anymore," Brock was firm. "Like I said, I want you to enjoy your privileges. But, if you're not going to cooperate, there will be consequences this time, until you work with your therapists and do as you're supposed to do."

Looking up, Bucky sent pleading feelings his handler's way. There was no way that he wanted to do this.

Sighing, frustrated, Brock wiped his hand over his face. Then he began pacing back and forth. "And that's another thing," he demanded. "No more begging. No more trying to manipulate me with your emotions."

"I'm not-" Bucky protested but was cut off with a glare.

Brock faced him, completely firm. "Any more attempts at that will be considered disobedience, and I **_will_** respond accordingly. No begging, no pleading with feelings, period."

"But!" Bucky protested and was cut off by Brock.

"Any more attempts, and I will administer your first punishment. I have to correct you, Bucky. One more outburst while you're here, and you won't be going back. As your punishment, I'll be taking you back to Hydra, and you'll be put in a cell to think on things. You'll be receiving a double dose of therapy to help you, and you won't be going back to Steve until I can _**see**_ that you're completely obedient."

Shaking, trembling, Bucky was in shock. It was all so completely unexpected.

Compassion came on Brock's face. "I know this is different from what you expected." He knelt next to Bucky, who was wide eyed. "And I know that you're used to a bit more leniency. This is going to take some time to get used to. I understand that. But, I'll give you all the time you need."

Bucky was back to crying more, and Brock sat beside him, wrapping his arms around him. "It'll be all right," he murmured softly. "You needn't be afraid or worried. I'll still take care of you. I'm not angry, Bucky."

Bucky began sobbing harder, and he leaned into his handler for comfort. The shock of the situation was too much for him.

Rumlow rocked him back and forth, holding him.

"It'll be all right."

 **Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8: A New Protocol

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Eight: A New Protocol

(Bucky Point of View)

After receiving his medicine via IV, and after taking more pills, and feeling fairly drugged, Brock saw fit to take him to one of the rooms and tuck him in. "You'll need to sleep it off," he murmured softly, draping the blanket softly over him. Even Bucky could tell that Brock looked a little woozy from Bucky's medication.

Groaning, Bucky turned on his tummy, forcing his head into the pillow. Brock sat beside him and began rubbing his back. "When you wake up, you should feel better. You'll have had the time to process things."

Shaking his head, Bucky felt Brock move into his hair, giving him a little head rub. "It'll be all right. Relax."

It wasn't long until Bucky was unconscious.

After a few hours, he woke up, feeling fairly refreshed. Yawning, he turned over onto his side, then onto his back, looking around. He'd slept five hours, maybe. It was still fairly dark out.

With a gasp, he realized that he needed to head back to the island before he was missing. As he got up, Bucky noticed he was in pajamas. His ordinary clothes were laundered and folded on the desk in the corner. Blushing a little, he realized that Brock must have changed him, but he was still too out of it to remember. He frowned. He wasn't a little kid! His shoes were off, and the freshly laundered socks were folded together, next to his clothes. His boots were freshly polished.

Changing, he headed toward to the door, only to find it locked. He groaned. He didn't have time for this!

His handler sent him feelings to relax. But how could he? People were going to miss him soon! That was until his handler sent him an even sharper feeling to relax.

Frustrated, pouting, he sat on the bed. His arms were folded, and he waited for his handler to come and get him.

It was a good ten minutes before Brock went to get him. When the door opened, Bucky looked up. Brock motioned for the door to be shut behind him.

Bucky was immediately on his feet. He was panicked. "They're going to notice me missing!"

Brock held a hand up. "Relax."

"How can I?" Bucky pulled on his hair. "They're going to notice!"

"Bucky," Brock began in a warning tone. Bucky's eyes snapped to his handler's. When Brock saw that he had Bucky's full attention again, he ordered, "Relax. I'm in control, all right? I am more than aware of the situation. You need to calm down."

But, Bucky couldn't help it. He paced back and forth. "You have another examination before you go," Brock continued on.

At the sound of this, Bucky froze. He began trembling. "E-Examination?" He turned back, and his eyes were pleading with his handler for mercy.

Brock raised an eyebrow, almost warning him. "Remember what we talked about last night?"

"But I don't want an examination!" Bucky protested, begging more.

Brock sighed, putting his fingers to his temples. "Don't push me, Bucky. I don't want to have to punish you. But this is **_exactly_** the kind of behavior I was talking about last night. This is _**exactly**_ the kind of behavior that I told you needs to stop. No more of this."

Tears poured down Bucky's face. Without being able to plead, his only defense mechanism is gone. "Why don't you just use the bond to make me?" Bucky questioned sourly. "You're more than able to."

"Because I want your sincere cooperation," Brock explained. "I don't want to have to push and fight you each time. Bucky, you should be led without resistance. It should be easy for my personnel to work on you and to lead you wherever they need you to go."

"But what about my feelings!" Bucky protested.

"I'm well aware," Brock reassured him. "And that's what the therapy is for. It's to help you cope."

" ** _I don't want therapy_**!" Bucky cried, stomping the ground.

Brock froze. The air in the room went cold. Immediately, Bucky felt scared. "What did you say?" Brock questioned.

"N-nothing!" Bucky responded quickly.

But his handler was sharp. " ** _What did you say_**?" his handler demanded to know.

Trembling, Bucky confessed, "I said I didn't want therapy."

Brock was looking at him sternly. "You pulled a tantrum. Why?" Bucky was shaking. Brock waited a few minutes, expecting an answer. He could have easily forced an answer out of him, but he didn't. Brock sighed, nodding as he looked at his Asset. "You know we discussed tantrums." Bucky was shaking. "You know that I'm going to have to punish you for that."

Immediately, Bucky burst out crying. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he couldn't help it. He sent pleading feelings his handler's way. "Enough!" Brock sharply reprimanded, and Bucky stopped. It was no use, he realized. "You made the choice," Brock pointed out to him. "Even when you knew what we had talked about. Now you're going to face the consequences. You're not going to see Steve again until further notice. I'm taking you back to Hydra."

With that, Brock made a move to leave. "N-No!" Bucky begged, catching his handler on the arm. "I'll be good! I promise!"

Brock briefly turned back. "It's too late, Bucky. I gave a warning of the consequence. Now I have to follow through, or you'll never learn. This is for your good." Bucky wailed, and Brock pried his hands away. He moved towards the door. "You'll be staying here for the voyage back," he informed his Asset. Then he left, the door shutting behind him, locking.

Bucky collapsed in grief on the floor.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow looked out over the ocean. They were currently traveling west. Jack stood beside him, looking out at the sunrise beside him. "You did the right thing," Jack reassured. "We both knew that he'd try to test your authority, see how much he could get away with. But he has to learn at some point."

"It's just so difficult," Brock murmured, shaking his head. "You didn't see him."

"You can feel his emotions," Jack pointed out. "It's affecting you."

"Exactly. So, I know precisely what's driving him to these behaviors. And it's not a pretty site. He's got a lot of trauma, Jack. I'm not sure how to help him. It's making it hard, actually impossible, for him to control himself. The truth is, I don't blame him completely. I know he's not exactly a happy kid. He panics easily."

"Which is what the therapists are for," Jack reassured him. "If he can't control himself, then he's going to be a danger to others. That's the last thing we need - a dangerous Winter Soldier. With proper guidance, he'll be able to control himself." There was a pause, and then Jack added, "We both knew that it wasn't going to be easy doing this. He's going to test your boundaries, until he learns."

Brock sighed. "You're right," he admitted. "He's scared and he doesn't need to be. But maybe, this is good for him. I think it will finally help him understand that we're not going to hurt him."

"That's right," Jack encouraged. "We just have to look at the outcome. I know he's a good kid. I know he can make it through this and come out stronger than before."

"You have that much faith in him?" Brock raised his eyebrows.

"Of course!" Jack exclaimed. "He's special. We both know that. It won't be an easy ride, but he can make it through."

"It definitely _**won't**_ be an easy ride," Brock confirmed, hand to his chin as he thought on things. "Bucky is going to give us all the trouble he can. I'll have to do my best to limit that trouble."

"And maybe," Jack suggested, "Letting him act it out will be good." At Brock's confused and questioning gaze, Jack added on, "The more you control him, the more he won't learn. He has to learn to choose the right thing himself. I think consequences is a better way to go about things."

"Ah." Brock nodded. It made sense to him, actually. Maybe then Bucky wouldn't be as nervous. And Brock wanted that more than anything.

"So," Brock concluded. "We rely on punishments and consequences, then?"

Jack nodded. "It doesn't need to be physical. I think the loss of any privileges he holds dear will suffice. He's desperate for some privileges."

Brock nodded once more. "Like seeing Steve."

"Exactly."

There was silence for a minute, and then Jack nodded. Brock motioned for him to leave. They were done here, and there was nothing else for either of them to say, only much to do.

It was in that very moment when Jack had barely closed the door, that he got a phone call from Yana. "Hello?" he answered.

What he wasn't expecting was her tart tone on the phone. "You didn't follow my advice," she practically accused.

Brock groaned internally. That he had a sweet spot for her, they both knew. Several times he'd tried to push himself to ask her for a date before cowardly backing out. "Yeah... about that..." he began, not sure how to continue. Either way, she would be disappointed in him. Hopefully her dead mother wouldn't be, wherever she was at.

"Brock, Brock," she tutted disapprovingly. "What are we going to do with you?" Her voice was sweet, but mocking. That said, Brock could still hear the irritation in her voice. He knew he was going to have to step in or risk getting chided out further by her.

"Do you want to hear the reasoning or not?" he demanded, but in a mocking manner.

Suddenly she was serious. "I suppose," she reluctantly admitted.

"Irina," he addressed, and he could hear her frown. "It's Bucky. I've got to put him in line, and I can't be any more lenient with him. He needs to know the consequences when he disobeys."

"I suppose," she was reluctant. But he could hear her caving to him. Brock knew he had a victory on him. She could see where he was coming from. "That merely means we're going to have to rethink things."

"I'm aware," Brock acknowledged. "And I think I have a perfect work around."

"Oh?" he was pretty sure she was raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," Brock acknowledged with a smile.

"Here it is."

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky was getting impatient staying in the medical room. The drip was still going, and he was bored. Why they were putting him on medication, he didn't know. But he didn't like it. He'd been crying for a while when they must have had enough, for they'd come in his room, grabbed him, and forced him to walk to the medical room. Bucky didn't resist, still hopeful that if he cooperated, Brock would change his mind and send him back to Steve. But that didn't mean that he wasn't crying the whole way over, because he was.

Too his surprise, the medicine helped him calm down. A calm feeling entered his body, and for a while he drifted off. He was still in the chair they had him in. Vaguely, he was aware that one of the personnel leaned the chair back so that he could get some rest. Bucky was grateful for it.

As he waited for his handler to come, drifting in and out, he felt bored and impatient when he was more awake. Eventually, one of the personnel came in and changed the drip, swapping the bag for a new one. More medication of a different sort (Bucky noticed they used a different bottle) was injected in, and the the bag was hooked back up to him.

The calmest feeling Bucky had ever felt in Hydra enveloped him, and Bucky drifted off. He tried to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't. He was vaguely aware of falling asleep briefly. Sometimes he thought he heard voices, but he was never quite conscious enough to make out anything.

Eventually, when he woke up some, still drowsy, a new bag dripping into him, Bucky groaned and felt his handler near. Turning his head to the left, he saw his handler, who was reading a dossier. His fuzzy eyes due to the tired state he was in made out some numbers on the medical dossier, and he was pretty sure it was his file.

"Sleep more," his handler commanded firmly. The man was feeling his tired state.

Bucky frowned. Looking down, he saw that a blanket was over him. Using his free, metal hand, he pulled it up over him more. "How long?" he mumbled almost incoherently.

"Sleep more," his handler commanded firmly again, no room for negotiation in his tone. He didn't even look at Bucky. But, feeling the bond, Bucky couldn't resist. He drifted off again. Everything went blank.

When Bucky woke up again, he noticed his handler still there. The man was standing, listening into his ear piece, right in front of Bucky. Bucky's medical file was closed in his hand, though one of Brock's fingers was saving a location.

Bucky looked over at the drip, which was fresh, blinking some. That must be the reason he felt so calm.

He knew that his handler knew that he was awake. But, choosing obedience in hopes that Rumlow would change his mind and send him back to Steve, he waited patiently to be addressed.

Bucky's sharp ears caught nothing on the other line. He wasn't sure what news Rumlow was waiting for. But, eventually, as nothing came, Rumlow turned to him. Bucky warily eyed his handler, waiting to be addressed.

From the bond, Bucky felt permission to speak. "I don't understand," he murmured, his eyes going towards the drip. Rumlow's eyes followed to where he was looking at.

"The drip?" Brock questioned, thoughtful, his finger still in the file. He walked over and sat down next to Bucky, the file carefully closed to where Bucky couldn't read anything. But Brock was looking at the drip in thought still. "It's there because you had a little melt down earlier," was his explanation. Then he carefully opened the file to where he knew that Bucky still couldn't see it, and he continued reading.

Bucky frowned. In his opinion, it wasn't a melt down earlier. He was crying out of grief. He was merely having a hard time stopping. But, knowing that the rules had changed dramatically, and not sure what was fair territory and what wasn't, he chose to stay silent.

Brock continued reading beside Bucky for some time. Eventually, the man put down the file, completely closed, and looked at Bucky. He shook his head as he looked at his Asset. "What am I going to do with you?" he murmured to himself, in a thinking mode.

Bucky was very uncomfortable and fidgeted under his gaze. As Rumlow sent comfort, he stood still, despite his discomfort.

Finally, Brock sighed. "Why don't you just talk?" he gave his permission, seeing that Bucky needed it. But Bucky still didn't know where to start. So, he opened and closed his mouth.

A small smile lit Brock's face, and he was somewhat amused. "Don't tell me you're that much more nervous!" he lightheartedly chuckled, despite the fact that he could surely sense the truth of his statement. "I'm still the same guy!"

"I... don't... know..." Bucky began. "So much has changed!"

"Not really," Brock corrected, and there was slight concern in his gaze. "Like I said, I just have to be a bit firmer. Everything else is still the same."

"But how am I supposed to express myself!" Bucky suddenly burst out, unable to contain himself anymore. Sudden sympathy was on Brock's face. "You won't let me!"

"I do," Brock replied. The concern became more and more evident on his face. "But there is an appropriate way and a not so appropriate way to express things. You're going to have time to work through your emotions, Bucky. In fact, you're going to have more time than ever. You need it."

Bucky shuddered. He didn't think he liked that. It made him uncomfortable. "I have no choice with Hydra."

"You never did," Brock confirmed. However, there was still sympathy in his gaze and tone. "You still don't. But I am giving you privileges in compensation. You have your duty, and I have mine."

A lone tear went down Bucky's face. It was all too much for him. "When does my therapy start?" he asked in an emotionless tone as he locked his heart down.

Brock eyed him in more concern. "We're almost to Hydra. I'll give you an hour to unwind in your room when we get there. Then I have an appointment scheduled for you. Until then, even in your room, you'll be on the drip until your therapist says so."

Another lone tear went down Bucky's face, and he nodded, accepting his fate. Then there was always the drugs.

Sensing his depression, Rumlow put a soft hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to worry," he tried to reassure Bucky. "I am not going to let you keep going through this depression. We're going to help you. And you're going to feel better soon."

Nodding, Bucky leaned back. He couldn't think of anything else other than acknowledging his handler at this point.

Sighing, Rumlow backed out the room. "I'll let you get some rest," he murmured.

Rumlow took the medical file with him.

(Bucky Point of View)

When Bucky was moved into his room in Rumlow's house, the drip still on him, he snuggled beneath the covers. Shivering, he pulled the covers over him harder. It was hard for him to get the rest he needed. He was calm, yes, but in many ways he was anxious. He was certainly _**not**_ looking forward to his therapy session.

As promised, Brock gave him an hour to unwind. It was more than an hour, even. Bucky snorted at the thought that maybe this was Rumlow's way of being generous, especially with the trouble he had caused. Though, he supposed this could be the case. If Rumlow really did think that, that is.

Eventually, Rumlow stepped into his room. The bag had been changed fifteen minutes ago, and it was hanging off the pole.

Striding forward, Bucky eyed Rumlow warily. "It's time to go," the man informed him, taking the IV bag off of the pole.

Sighing, Bucky got up. There was no point in fighting. Pleading was how he'd gotten himself into this mess to begin with. Reluctantly, he followed Rumlow out the door, through the city, and back into the Hydra facility. The bag was held by Rumlow, Bucky carefully trotting behind him the whole time.

Outside the hallway of an office, bald headed James was waiting for him. Bucky gulped when he saw him. He wasn't ready to be worked against. Nudging him gently forward, Rumlow sent kind and sympathetic feelings towards him when he felt how nervous Bucky was. Having no choice, Bucky entered the therapist's office, but not before glancing warily with a bit of a glare at James. James only smiled back kindly.

Bucky gasped as he saw the room. It was quite comfortable. There was a rather long couch that he could lay in if he wanted to, a desk, several comfortable chairs, and a business chair behind the desk. Games were in the corner of the room. But what surprised Bucky the most was how light it was in the room. Bucky had been expecting something a little dark.

Pictures of nature were on the walls. They were even scattered around the two desks that formed an L. The only thing that Bucky didn't like was that there was an IV poll near the couch. Evidently his therapist had been warned. But, at least there were no Hydra symbols in the office.

As Brock motioned Bucky, Bucky sat down on the couch. His therapist got into a cupboard on the opposite side of the room. Bringing out a blanket with dogs on it, he draped it over Bucky. "Um... thanks?" Bucky replied in confusion. Rumlow smiled kindly down at him. He wasn't sure why his therapist had done this.

When his therapist had closed the door and Bucky had noticed that Rumlow was still there, he frowned. But he didn't say anything.

James glanced between him and his handler. "I hope you don't mind Mr. Rumlow staying for the first session?"

Bucky frowned again. "Will he be here for the next sessions?"

James shrugged. "Maybe. It depends on what your handler wants." And then, there was that. Yet again, it was another reminder that he was owned.

Bucky stared at Rumlow. Brock raised his eyebrows. At a feeling that he was allowed to speak, Bucky voiced, "Why can't I have privacy with my therapist?"

Rumlow seemed surprised, a little suspicious even. "I just want to make sure that you're cooperating."

"And if I promise!" Bucky practically begged. "At the very least can I have some privacy? Please? You're not giving me a choice for therapy after all. I promise to cooperate. But I don't want to spill out my heart in front of you."

Rumlow deliberated for a moment. He didn't seem to trust Bucky, and while he could feel the man's sincerity, he still didn't trust that Bucky would change his mind later on when things got tough. He also didn't trust Bucky to not try to manipulate his therapist.

"You won't have privacy anyways," Rumlow gently reminded him. "They'll be going over with me everything after the appointments. I'll be getting reports of what's going on."

"But at the very least I can have privacy for a little while while in my session," Bucky pointed out with a shiver as he thought on the fact that Rumlow would have everything anyways. He _**always**_ got what he wanted.

Rumlow seemed to deliberate a bit more. Then he huffed. "Fine!" he conceded while snapping back. He marched towards the door, but surprisingly closed it softly, leaving Bucky with his therapist.

Bucky gulped when he saw that he was alone with the stranger. He eyed him warily, but all James did was watch him, observe him. After this continued for a few minutes, his therapist saying nothing, Bucky squirmed uncomfortably. "I thought we were going to start therapy?"

"We already have," James murmured, and then went back to staring at him.

Bucky fidgeted again. "Why are things so silent, then?"

James raised an eyebrow. "Are you wanting to talk?"

"I thought that was what we were supposed to do!"

Silence reigned. James seemed to be considering this. And then he sighed. "I suppose we can talk," he relented. "But I was under the impression that you didn't want to talk."

"Brock wants me to talk," Bucky frowned.

James raised another eyebrow. He seemed intrigued. "I was told that he wanted you in therapy. I wasn't told that you had to talk."

Confusion enveloped Bucky. "But I thought that's what therapy was?"

Sighing, shaking his head, James countered, "Your handler must be confused then. That's not quite how this works. Normally we spend the first few appointments getting the patient used to us **_before_** we breach any topics on emotions."

Silence filled the air after that. "Oh," was all Bucky could say. There was more silence.

The IV continued to drip away and Bucky squirmed to get comfortable. James began jotting something down with his pen, and before he knew it, Bucky saw that an entire page had been filled. "What are you doing?" Bucky asked.

"Writing a report," James answered, not looking up. Bucky frowned. He hoped that this report wouldn't get Bucky in trouble. However, to his surprise, James seemed to breach something with him. James looked up. "You seem to be trying to force yourself to talk this appointment. You don't want to, and yet you're trying to."

Bucky frowned again. "I thought the first appointment was to try to get the patient used to the therapist?"

James leaned back, intrigued. "I thought you wanted to talk?"

"I'm confused," Bucky responded. "I'm getting mixed messages."

James nodded, considering things. Then, he countered, "What do you want to do?"

Snorting, Bucky responded, "Other than _**not**_ being here?" James nodded. Sighing, Bucky leaned back. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know _**how**_ this is supposed to work."

Shrugging, James nodded. "Seems fair." They were silent for a minute, and then James continued again. His eyes eyed the bag that was halfway empty. "Ideally, I'd like to breach some light emotions before we get into the heavy stuff, that way you know what to expect." Bucky nodded. What else was he supposed to say when he didn't have a choice in any of this? Seeing that Bucky was cooperative, evidently, James decided to get right in. "So, what light things do you want to talk about?"

Shifting more, Bucky considered. "How about the fact that I don't have a choice in any of this?"

"Sounds heavy," his therapist commented, but conceded anyways. But he paved the way for Bucky to speak more.

Frustrated, Bucky looked at his therapist. "I don't know how this works!" he complained.

Nodding, James started guiding Bucky forward. "Normally, people talk about their feelings and the situation, whatever they want, really."

"Then why didn't you tell me?!"

"Because, you'll share when you're ready." Frowning, Bucky looked away. Upon seeing his expression, James added, "Bucky, I don't care what your handler says. You can't do this on **_his_** timeline. That's something I'll be explaining to him. It will be done as you're ready. If you want to push yourself, that's fine. But don't kill yourself." With that, he chuckled slightly in humor at the last line, but left the time open for Bucky, if he wanted to say anything.

Things were silent for a moment. "I don't want to disappoint my handler..." Bucky finally admitted.

"And you won't," James reassured him. "I see how much Mr. Rumlow cares about you. Once I explain it to him, I think he'll get it. Just take the baby steps you need."

Sighing, Bucky nodded. And then there was that. But, seeing no reason why not to continue since they'd already breached things, he started. "I hate not being able to choose," he whispered. Suddenly, it all started coming off of his chest. All the emotions, all the pain, all the grief began pouring out of him. "I hate not having control of my life. I hate that Hydra did all this to my. I hate that **_Brock_** did all this to me. I hate it! I hate it! I hate Hydra! I **_hate_** him!"

Embarrassingly, tears were pouring out of Bucky's eyes by the time he was done with his little monologue. But there was no judgment in James' eyes. There was silence for a moment, and then James asked, "Which one do you want to start with?"

Bucky puffed. "Oh, I don't know! It's all linked, to me!"

James nodded. "You associate Hydra with your lack of being able to choose?"

Bucky nodded fervently. "How can I not? I'm controlled all the time!"

James nodded again, beginning to write things down. Then he looked up. "Where do you first associate Hydra with taking away your choice?"

"World War II," Bucky breathed. "Zola. He... he dragged me to that horrid room... and..." Bucky looked away, tears in his eyes. He still couldn't remember it all.

Patiently waiting, James nodded, writing things down. "You know, you do have a choice?" he put in. Bucky snorted and looked away. "You chose to tell me this, remember? I seem to recall in the records that you screamed at Zola, calling him a fair amount of names. You **_chose_** to do that."

"But my choices are now limited," Bucky griped.

"Yes," James acknowledged. "But that doesn't mean you're totally controlled. You've made choices, and Rumlow is giving you more choices than his predecessors." As Bucky ground his teeth, James held up an appeasing hand. "I'm not saying that your choices aren't limited more than others. In fact, out of everyone here, you are the most limited in being able to make choices. I'm just saying that that's not the same as not choosing. You have leave way. All I'm asking as that we state things as they are."

"Fine!" Bucky snapped. "I'm a slave! I have **_limited_** choices! And, in the end, Brock could make it so that I couldn't make any choices at all!"

"He won't do that," James reassured him. "That's not what he's like."

"But he could if he wanted to!"

"Yes," James warily acknowledged. "But he won't."

Silence reigned again, Bucky seething the whole time. James interrupted Bucky's seething. "You seem to harbor a lot of anger."

"Wouldn't you?" Bucky asked bitterly, refusing to meet his gaze.

Tilting his head, James admitted. "It's fair. You're right, I would."

With more silence, Bucky shut down completely. He hated this! Seeing that he was no longer willing to talk, Jame conceded, "We don't have to talk more if you don't want to. As I said, we'll do this on your time."

Clenching his fists, Bucky looked at his therapist. "I thought you were all going to 'fix' me quickly."

James shrugged. "Quick is relative. Yes, it will go faster than in the outside world. We have additional knowledge and additional methods that can help you. But that doesn't mean we can push you more than you can handle."

Looking away, Bucky snorted. "I don't see how you can change my feelings."

"It's not about changing them," James corrected. "Rather, it's about confronting them, acknowledging them. It's about accepting things as they are until they don't bother you anymore, until you can move on."

"And Hydra?" Bucky asked. "What does this have to do with me serving Hydra?"

"You have a lot of trauma," James explained. He criss-crossed his legs. "Those emotions keep you from having an open mind. Given time, you'll be able to process things and see things through a new lens."

"You mean brainwash me?" Bucky was wary.

"No," James frowned, clearly displeased at Bucky's choice of words. "It means you'll be emotionally healed and able to give Hydra a second chance."

"Brainwashing!" Bucky accused, looking away.

James stayed silent after that. Then he picked up his pen again. "Tell me more about what you consider 'brainwashing'?"

"Everything that Hydra does!" Bucky sarcastically accused. "Everything you're doing to me right now!" Though Bucky could tell that James had a disagreeing look on his face, none the less, James stayed silent. Instead he decided to jot down everything Bucky was saying.

"Do you consider what your normal therapists do, outside of Hydra, brainwashing?" Bucky frowned. He didn't respond. The truth was, he didn't know if he did or not. "Because we're not really doing anything different that you wouldn't find in the outside world."

Bucky snorted. "Except **_forcing_** me, of course?"

"Since when have I forced you?" James countered. "I'm moving at your pace, remember?"

"Except I'm _**forced**_ to be in therapy!"

James shrugged, nonchalant. "True enough." He wrote down more of Bucky's thoughts.

Silence reigned after that. Bucky had a bitter look on his face, but James looked sympathetic. As they both looked at the IV bag that was nearly empty, Bucky looked bitterly away. He still didn't like what was being done to him.

James continued writing notes, and neither of them spoke. But, after he finished, he turned to Bucky again. "I see no reason for you to receive more medicine for now. I'll have you taken off of that IV bag once it's gone.

Relief flowed through Bucky. "Thank you!" James smiled at him, and Bucky shivered, looking away. After a few moments of silence he had the courage to ask, "Why was I put on the medication to begin with?

James ripped the paper from his notebook and carefully folded it, not looking at Bucky as he spoke. "You were having a hard time calming down. It was causing everyone, including your handler, concern."

Frowning, Bucky looked away. "Why would he be concerned? He can control me!"

Stopping what he was doing, James looked up, an eyebrow raised. "You really don't understand how much he cares about you, do you? You're not some mere object to him. This connection between the two of you makes it so that he understands you intimately. I don't understand it entirely. In fact, the only ones who would truly understand are you, your handler, and your previous handlers. Needless to say, he could feel your emotions and felt that it was not in your best interest to keep you in that state."

As much as Bucky wanted to believe that Brock cared about him, and as often as he had felt the caring feelings sent to him from his handler, he was still having a hard time gasping that concept. He knew it. He could tell Steve that Rumlow cared. But the truth was that he was still so confused when it came to his handler. "I don't understand," was all that he could tell his therapist about the situation.

Nodding, James leaned back in his chair, observing Bucky. "You have a lot of emotions to overcome, is why."

Looking away, Bucky thought on things. Even with Steve, he could tell that the man was on edge with him. Steve simply didn't know what to say to him and what would set him off. But, the truth was, neither did Bucky. Bucky didn't fully understand it. All he knew was that he felt and he reacted according to his feelings.

"How long?" was all that Bucky could ask.

James seemed to understand, fortunately. And the man was patient with him, despite this being answered multiple times. "As soon as your able to. It could be months, or it could be years. I highly doubt that it will be years."

"And... Steve?" Bucky asked. "I'll be returned to him?"

Considering him closely, James was careful with his next words. "You will see him again, yes. But, technically, you were never returned to him. Don't forget, you're on a mission for Mr. Rumlow. And Steve doesn't own you: Mr. Rumlow does."

Bucky was cautious after this. He still didn't like the term "ownership". "Mr. Rumlow _**does**_ take your feelings into account," James softly pushed. "Consider it more of him being your guardian instead."

" _ **Steve**_ is my guardian," Bucky countered in an emotionless tone.

"And Mr. Rumlow is the one to guide you," James gently nudged him. "Think of him as more of a protector. He's the one that's supposed to take care of you."

Bucky hated it. He hated how this was being worded to him. And yet, that was exactly how it was. Steve may have had the legal documents making him his guardian, but in the end it was Rumlow with the power and authority to control him. Bucky still answered to Rumlow in the end.

Bucky didn't want to suffer, so badly! And as much as he hated it, for the first time, his relationship with Brock was beginning to make sense. He could get used to the man, yes. Bucky was the subservient one in the bond. And maybe, having a feeling of being protected might feel good.

Despite his efforts not to, Bucky felt himself starting to cave. He may not have agreed with Hydra, and he may not have liked Hydra, but he couldn't resist the pull that Hydra had on him. A feeling of subservience to Hydra and especially to his handler overcame him. He just wanted the terrible emotions he was feeling gone. He didn't want to be in pain anymore. If Hydra could take that away, surely it was worth it?

He may not have liked how they forced him, but maybe he could get used to it, get less resistant. And maybe, Hydra could do what Rumlow had promised they could do.

"I don't want to be in pain!" Bucky finally confessed, tears going down his cheeks.

James put a soft hand on his shoulder, closing the gap between them. "You won't be! That's why we're here! We're here to help you with your feelings, Bucky. Given time, I believe you can heal."

"Will it ever go away?" Bucky asked.

James had pure sympathy in his expression. "Yes," he admitted. "It can. We have techniques that the outside world doesn't have. That's why you're here. You **_can_** be healed. That's what the therapy and the psychologist team is for. But you have to want it."

"I do!" Bucky practically begged. His eyes were desperate. He just wanted this whole nightmare to end. It was all too much for him to handle. He couldn't help it. He was caving.

Rumlow had to have known this was coming. He knew Bucky better than Bucky knew himself. Brock had to have known that Bucky could only handle so much before he would cave to him. And he hated the man, because of that. But, in reality, he couldn't really hate him. The bond prevented that. There was love there.

And so, completely overwhelmed, Bucky began crying. "Just take it away!" he begged. "Take my feelings away! Take my emotions away!"

"I can't take your feelings away," James sympathetically replied. "To heal, as stated before, you're going to need to experience them."

"No!" Bucky looked up. "Anything but that!"

James shook his head sadly. "That's the only way. But you won't be without support. We're going to heal you, Bucky. Isn't that what you wanted? Emotional healing?"

Bucky nodded desperately. Thinking on things, that's all he really wanted.

James nodded, satisfied.

"Let's begin."

(A little while later)

Bucky felt better after his first appointment. It had lasted a total of two hours. But the fact that he felt better was what surprised him most.

Brock was walking next to Bucky, sending him comforting feelings as well as other feelings that he was proud of him. The man voiced it aloud. "I'm proud of you."

Bucky couldn't help it. He practically glowed at the praise. To him, it was everything. And it made him want to please Brock more.

Brock wrapped his arm around Bucky's shoulders as they walked. Bucky mildly rubbed the area where the IV had been, but it didn't bother him. "I'll take you home," Brock murmured softly, in deep thought. "I let you rest for the remainder of the day. You earned it."

Blushing slightly, somewhat embarrassed at all the praise he was getting, Bucky sheepishly asked, "Can I go back to Steve, then?"

Brock raised his eyebrows, not impressed at the question. "Don't push it," he warned. When he saw Bucky's disappointed look, he sent him more proud feelings. "Don't think too much on it. You will go back to him, I promise. Just be patient."

And so, Bucky allowed himself to be guided. He yawned as he wast tired after his therapy appointment. Expressing all those feelings had taken a toll on him. Then, when they reached Brock's house, he went into his Hydra room and plopped on the bed. He was out in an instant.

It didn't take long for him to wake up again. When he did, he noticed Rumlow sitting in his room, a concerned expression on his face.

Bucky frowned. "What is it?" he asked.

Rumlow seemed to stir himself out of his thoughts. "Nothing," he commented, a bit too quickly. When Brock saw that Bucky didn't quite believe him, he sighed. "Just get more rest."

Bucky was hesitant. But, he laid back down again, suspicious. Yawning, Bucky replied to him.

"Okay."

(Steve Point of View)

Steve was furious. Bucky was missing again! He'd paced and paced Bucky's room, but he knew that it wouldn't change anything. Agony was in his eyes as he waited for any news.

Finally, Natasha slipped in. Steve turned to her, desperation in his eyes. "Anything?" he practically begged.

Natasha shook her head with sympathy. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "But you know that he knows how to _**not**_ leave a trace."

"No!" Steve collapsed onto Bucky's bed. It was too much for him and Bucky had been so safe!

Walking up carefully, observing his state, Natasha sat next to him. "We all knew, despite King T'Challa's belief otherwise, that none of us could keep him in if he didn't want to stay."

"He's in danger!" there were tears in Steve's eyes. He had no doubt that Rumlow had something to do with this. An growing anger towards the man became threatening.

"He's brainwashed," Natasha pointed out. "But despite that, he still came back to you. I have no doubt that he will again."

"After Rumlow does who knows what to him," Steve gripped, his fist clenched. His anger was so evident that even the assassin Natasha was uncomfortable. But she continued to show sympathy to him, regardless.

"He'll come back," Natasha reassured him. "And when he does, we'll continue to work with him. But for now, there's nothing we can do. We don't even know where he is, where they take him. Our only hope to get through to him comes when he comes back."

"Will he?" Steve asked bitterly.

"Yes," Natasha responded without hesitation, so confident.

That Steve had told them what Bucky had told him about Rumlow was evident. Everyone in the know now knew that Brock was the one controlling Bucky. And it only made Steve mad. Steve wanted nothing more than for Bucky to have his freedom. The man had been enslaved long enough.

Natasha put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey," she murmured softly. "Bucky _**will**_ find his way back to us. He's been through a lot, but he'll come home, eventually."

"Hopefully," Steve commented bitterly. "And in what shape?"

A lone tear ran down Steve's eyes.

(Some days later)

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky was in a bad mood again. Once again, he was refusing to cooperate with his handler. He could tell Rumlow was mad at him. In fact, via the man's feelings, he was seething.

Rumlow paced back and forth, Bucky leaning against the medical bed. They were in a doctor's office for an examination for Bucky, but Bucky was refusing. A frown was on his face, almost pouting, and he had his arms crossed as he watched Rumlow pace.

Brock clenched his fists and turned back to Bucky. "Why?!" he demanded angrily. "Why do you always resist me?!"

"So force me!" Bucky demanded angrily, uncooperative. In the end, he knew Rumlow wouldn't. And Rumlow knew that too. Rumlow wasn't going to use the bond because he wanted Bucky willing.

Glaring at his Asset, Rumlow stared him down. Bucky stared defiantly back. "You're being far too bold."

Snorting, Bucky angrily looked away. "And? You can force me with the bond."

"I don't want force! I want cooperation!" Rumlow snarled.

Bucky couldn't help flinching. But he wasn't going to move this time. " _ **NO. I'M NOT BEING EXAMINED**_."

"You will do as your told!" Rumlow raised his voice.

Bucky looked back, glaring. " ** _MAKE ME_**."

Clenching his fists again, Rumlow looked him up and down once. "Fine," he seethed. "You want to play this game? Huh?"

Now Bucky was clenching his fists. "Three weeks," he glared. "Three weeks! That's how long it's been since I've seen Steve! _**YOU PROMISED**_!" And tears were in his eyes as he looked away.

Now, Rumlow had his arms folded. "I promised," he confirmed. "But I never said when. I only said it would be once you started being obedient and cooperating. But you're not cooperating. Huh? So what makes you think I'm going to return you to him, right now?!"

Tears poured down Bucky's eyes. "I'm tired of obedience! I never have any say!"

"No," Rumlow admitted. "You have privileges instead. And now, those privileges are going to be taken away. I've been patient with you, Bucky. And you know the rules. But now, I have to follow through on my promises. From now on, you're going into a cell. There will be no more comfortable beds. And if I have to chain you, I will."

The tears increased and Bucky looked down. He never stood a chance, really. "Why don't you just make me with the bond?!" Bucky practically begged.

Sighing, sensing the fight was over, Rumlow wiped his hand over his face. "You know I don't want to have to force you."

Groaning at his lost privileges, Bucky started cooperating. He was in white cotton scrubs, and he lay on the examination table, prepared to be treated like cattle.

His feelings provoked some sympathy in his handler. "Bucky, you're not cattle. I've held off this needed examination for three weeks because of everything that's gone on. But **_you're not cattle_**."

"Sure feels like it," Bucky turned away, the tears still in his eyes.

Rumlow sighed and went to the door, letting the doctors in. Bucky cried more as they approached him. His handler sent him feelings of comfort. So, even though he was sentenced to jail time, at least he still had his handler's sympathy.

Bucky had some sort of guess as to why this examination was being done. He'd been seeing Brock's pain increase over the few weeks that they'd held him. Evidently, it had started before when he was with Steve. But Brock did his best to cope and put on his best face.

Despite the fact that Bucky couldn't feel anything, he knew it had be coming from him. Otherwise, they wouldn't examine him. It was probably because he healed so fast that he didn't notice anything. However, Brock, who didn't heal fast, was experiencing what he was going through due to the bond.

The snap of examination gloves coming on could be heard. Bucky did his best to dissociate. But it still didn't make him feel better about the situation. Rumlow sent him calm feelings, despite the pain the man was in. And in all honesty, for the amount of pain the man was in, he'd been rather patient with Bucky, he had to admit.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky was prepared as they tested his reaction. Taping on his elbows and his knees lightly, Bucky was as still as he could. Then they took his temperature, checked his breathing, and listened to his heart. Bucky looked at Rumlow in worry.

Writing everything down, they turned back to Bucky. "Take off your shirt," they commanded. This must be the crucial part of the examination, Bucky realized.

Bucky was hesitant. "Why?" he asked cautiously. But at a stern look from his handler, he obeyed. The man just wanted it over with. He wanted to figure out quickly where the pain was coming from.

Bucky felt exposed. He didn't like that they'd waxed him the previous day just so that he could be ready for any medical procedure that they needed to perform if the examination proved that he needed it. He was also specifically waxed so that this examination could be done. It was standard protocol for Hydra to wax him, anyways, as they might need to do emergency medical intervention at an instant, should he need medical treatment during or after a mission. All his handlers, including Brock, had required it. It simply made doing medicine on him easier.

But to Bucky, it felt as if an essence of his manhood was violated. Why should he be prevented from having chest hair just because Hydra preferred it out of the way? He didn't care that they saw it as something medically necessary for his upkeep and maintenance. Brock was merely upholding the previous standards.

The thought on these things put Bucky in a bad mood. But it also made him uncomfortable.

He was propped up slightly with pillows, and a doctor rolled a cart with a computer and some equipment over to him. Bucky made a face. He had an idea what they were going to do. And, sure enough, goop was placed on his chest.

They were scanning him and doing ultrasounds. Worry came across some of the doctor's faces as they looked at his insides on the screens. "We might need to take a biopsy of his heart and liver," they informed Rumlow. "It appears that the liver may be having troubles handling the medicine, and it's scarring his heart some."

Rumlow frowned and Bucky shivered. "No," Bucky demanded. He was not going to have a biopsy done.

But he was glared at by his handler and the doctors. He didn't have any say in anything.

Rumlow was thoughtful, a hand to his chin. "The medicine?" he asked. The staff nodded. "It's why you were in pain," one of them told Rumlow. "The dose is perhaps too harsh. Or, it's simply not a right fit for his body. Remember, we had to make some adjustments due to the serum. The serum automatically alters the chemical structure of any medicine, anyways."

Sighing, Rumlow continued. "I can't have him going through a procedure when I'm ready to send him out into the field. I can hold off and handle it. Back him off the medication instead."

"But sir, if he has cysts on his liver and heart-" one protested only to be interrupted.

"And if it were that serious, he and I would be out of commission. Back him off the medicine. The serum will heal him."

Bucky groaned as the personnel sighed. They wiped his chest of the goop that they'd put on it and let him have his shirt again. He frowned. He hadn't noticed anything, probably because of the serum. But if Rumlow had felt something, then something was going on.

He didn't like it that he had no choice in the matter. But he also couldn't help but think that this meant he would be on less medicine. It sort of scared him that the medicine was affecting him in this manner. They'd put him on all this medicine just to control him, and it was having a harsh effect on his body. But, even scarier, was the idea that Rumlow was going to use him for something. He shivered at the thought of what it might be.

Rumlow was watching him closely. Bucky met his gaze reluctantly. The man had no expression, but he had a careful demeanor. At a prompting of feelings from his handler to relax, Bucky reluctantly obeyed. Concern was sent his way.

Bucky thought a permanent frown was fixed to his face. He was at a point where he couldn't feel anymore. He was so numb from the stress of everything. And the truth was, he didn't know if Rumlow preferred it that way or not. He hoped not.

As Rumlow watched him carefully, feeling his feelings, Rumlow sent a calming feeling his way. He motioned his personnel out. When they were gone, he sent Bucky comfort and walked in front of him, compassion on his face. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Where are you sending me?" Bucky asked, unable to look at his handler.

Rumlow was careful now. "It's not needful to know yet," he was cautious.

But Bucky started shaking. "Are you going to use me to kill someone?"

Rumlow froze. His mouth was open and he didn't know what to say. Bucky closed his eyes in realization.

Rumlow was by his side in an instance, Bucky's flesh hand in his hand. "It's not what you think!" he tried to reassure Bucky.

Bucky was shivering. "I don't want to kill anyone!" he replied in a tiny voice.

Compassion was instantly on Rumlow's face. "It's Striker," he finally admitted. "We've located him. You remember what he did to you, don't you?"

Bucky glanced at Rumlow in terror. "I don't want to kill anyone!" he repeated. And the truth was, he was terrified of Striker, even though he knew that he was deadlier than the man.

Rumlow placed a compassionate hand on his shoulder. "It has to be done," he explained, and his tone was firm, no room for arguments. Bucky put his head down. He had no choice. There was no sense in begging.

Rumlow motioned to him. "Put on your shirt." Bucky obeyed, no expression on his face. Rumlow then stood up, motioning for Bucky to follow. "I'll take you to your cell."

Bucky couldn't help the disappointment that crept up through him. Brock turned back, eyebrow raised. "You _**were**_ warned, Bucky."

"Yeah," Bucky murmured softly, looking down. He followed Rumlow out of the room and through the corridors. Finally, the reached a room that had bars, and on the other side of the bars, a cot. No bathroom was inside, and he had no doubt that he would have to ask every time he needed to use the restroom. It was embarrassing.

Rumlow opened the doors, which slid open, and motioned him inside. Bucky obeyed. The door shut behind him. As of right now, he knew better than to ask how long he would be stuck in there for. But he couldn't help but wonder.

The door to the room shut behind Rumlow, force field coming up, and Bucky was left on his own. He could hear guards taking their position outside the cell, and he sighed. Walking dejectedly over to the bunk, he settled down, turning on his side, facing the wall.

It was only a matter of time before they came to get him.

(Steve Point of View)

Steve was heartbroken. It had been several weeks, and his best friend was _**still**_ missing. Bucky was normally back by now. He didn't know why Bucky was being kept extra long. Ten days was usually the max.

Concern swept over Steve. That this was unusual made Steve even more frightened. He hated to think of what Bucky was going through. And that Bucky had been so open with Steve before leaving made Steve even more suspicious. He wondered if he'd accidentally made his friend cross the line with Brock. He hoped that Brock wouldn't be too harsh with Bucky if that was the case.

Bucky was everything to Steve. And Steve wanted Bucky safe and comfortable. There was still a lot of things to do to help him, but if they could just get him back for a little more time, then Steve was sure they could find a solution to everything.

He didn't care what the others said. He didn't care that Bucky was being controlled by Rumlow. He still suspected that Bucky had a trauma bond.

It was hard on him. The thought of his best friend attached to the very man who had abused him over and over made him sick.

He knew that the others didn't consider or believe that Bucky had a trauma bond anymore. But they didn't see Bucky, they didn't hear the words he spoke about Rumlow. They didn't hear how sure Bucky was that Rumlow cared about him.

Steve had talked about this with others. They didn't believe it was a result of a trauma bond. But Steve wasn't so sure. He knew his best friend so well that he was fairly sure that even without the bond considered, Bucky had an unhealthy, sickening attachment to Rumlow.

Pacing the floor, Steve did his best to calm down. But it was hard. And calming down didn't make it to where his friend was safe.

Finally, someone entered the room. Looking up, Steve saw it was King T'Challa. Steve nodded respectfully to the man. "Anything?" he practically begged.

T'Challa shook his head. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "But there was something else we wanted to show you." When the man saw Steve's reluctance, he reassured him, "It's related to Bucky."

Immediately, Steve was following T'Challa out the door. They led him to a room with a table. On that table, there were Russian files everywhere. Natasha was there sorting through them, and she looked up at Steve as he approached.

"We found something," she informed Steve. A worried and hard look was on her face. "And you're not going to like it."

"It's about Bucky," Steve was cautious.

Natasha nodded. "We've breached new Hydra files from an old warehouse that was apparently abandoned. At least there were no personnel there. There warehouse didn't exist on any of the data from when we breached Hydra/Shield files from Project Insight. And this warehouse had some dirt on the Winter Soldier."

"Dirt?" Steve asked, his stomach clenching, making him sick.

Natasha paused and looked up at him. "We've been able to uncover some of the experiments they were doing on the Winter Soldier."

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky had been brought to Rumlow's room in his house. Right now, Rumlow was outside the door, talking with his personnel in hush, hush whispers. But everyone knew that Bucky could hear.

"The right amount of information was leaked?" Brock was asking.

"Yes," the lackey answered confidently. "It'll be enough to provide a distraction, let the Winter Soldier get the deed done."

"Excellent," Brock praised the man. In an instant, the man opened the door and came inside. The door was shut, and Bucky heard the man leave.

Brock paced around Bucky until he stood in front of him. Bucky was back to wearing cotton scrubs again, this time in black. He wasn't allowed to wear any of his wardrobe that Brock had allotted because he was still under punishment.

Slowly, warily, almost scared, Bucky met Brock's eyes.

Brock smiled kindly at him, his eyes confident, and praising of his Soldier.

"It's time."

 **I hope you enjoy this latest update. I am already started on the next chapter.**

 **Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9: A New Mission

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Nine: A New Mission

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky was nervous of his handler. He knew what this was all about. He was being used, being sent to kill Striker.

Brock continued to smile at him. His eyes were full of praise for his Soldier. "Finally, it's time. This is what you excel at. This is what you were made for. Finally, at last, we will get our revenge against Striker and his cronies. Manning won't know what hit him. We'll finally be able to deal with all of this treason."

Bucky was trembling slightly. Brock placed a soft hand along his cheek and Bucky started crying. He wasn't allowed to speak yet. "You don't need to be nervous," Brock murmured softly, sending comfort. "This is what you excel at. This is what you were made for. I _**know**_ you'll get the job done. A clean kill is all we need."

And yet, knowing Brock's state of mind, Bucky _**knew**_ that it wouldn't be a clean kill. Brock wanted revenge. He was going to make Manning and Striker pay for it before they died. Bucky trembled knowing that he was going to have to do something awful to them before they died due to the bond. And he knew that he had no choice because of the bond and the control that Rumlow had over him. He was, admittedly, afraid of what Brock had planned for him to do.

More compassion came from Rumlow. The man knew how hard this was for him. So, finally, he permitted his Asset to speak. "Why am I here?" Bucky asked in a tiny voice.

Sadness came over Rumlow, and though he could sense Bucky's feelings, it was like he wasn't sure where to begin with Bucky. Finally, Rumlow replied, "I brought you here because I wanted to spend some time with you before I sent you out. I want us to be on the same page. I need to know that you're okay and that you'll be okay."

Bucky shook his head. The hand was taken away from his cheek and Rumlow placed it on his shoulders. "You know I'm not okay," Bucky replied, looking away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brock nod. The man had already known. And from this, Bucky could tell that Brock was desperate to soothe him somehow.

"I know," Brock admitted, somewhat sad. "But I just wanted to talk, to try to work things out before I sent you out. I know it's been rough on you the past few weeks, a bit more rough than normal. You're not used to the new restrictions. You're used to fighting back. Being told that that's not allowed anymore is hard on you."

Looking back, Bucky could see the concern in Rumlow's eyes. "Choice has meant everything to me," he said.

"And making the right choices is important," Rumlow replied, using a slight emphasis, but a soft voice. Regardless, his eyes still carried the same concerned and caring demeanor. "I want you to be able to enjoy your privileges, Bucky. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to have to worry about things. That's why _**I**_ make the decisions. That's how it **_should_** be."

"You feel how chocked I feel," Bucky replied back, a little desperate for his handler to see things from his perspective. He knew that Rumlow understood, he just didn't see things the same way. "How can I ever adjust to this kind of life?"

"With time," Rumlow replied calmly. "I'll be patient. I'll give you all the time you need. But you need to let go of certain things."

"You know I can't," Bucky retorted carefully. "I just want my freedom."

Once again, Rumlow placed his hand on Bucky's cheek. Compassion was on his face. "I know it's not the same," he murmured. "But you **_can_** get used to this if you want. That's all I'm asking for, for you to try."

But, Bucky didn't want to try. Rumlow knew this. Bucky feared that more force and therapy would follow if he refused to choose what Rumlow wanted. Brock squeezed his shoulders as he felt his fear. He sent comfort over. "You don't have to decide right now."

"I've already made my decision," Bucky replied, looking away.

Brock was calm, nodding in acceptance. "That's what you feel right now. You haven't seen how good Hydra can be to you."

It made Bucky clench his fists. It upset him more than anything. But he remained silent. Brock removed his hands, choosing to ignore his reaction. Instead, he paced around his Asset, going over to the corner of his room, pouring some water into a mug. "Water?" he offered Bucky.

Bucky immediately accepted the request. It was painful, everything that had transpired, and he desperately needed some relief. It was the gesture that was most soothing. And, as he drank the water, he couldn't help but feel a little better.

Brock was staring at him again. The man was still concerned about him, Bucky could tell, but he was back to business. When Bucky was done drinking the water, he decided to address his Asset. "I think you know what this mission is about," he began.

Bucky went silent again, bringing the cup down, still in his right hand. Brock stepped forward and Bucky let the man take the cup away. "Striker is a threat that we must eliminate," the man ordered, and he set the cup back down on his dresser. "Striker will destroy Hydra if we don't. And if Striker is dead, Manning will just take over, and the rebels will follow Manning anyways. Both of them must die."

Shivering, Bucky nodded. He basically knew his orders. But Brock looked up at him that minute. "I've had enough of the treason. An example needs to made of them. _**No one**_ must be allowed to commit treason against me. _**No one**_. I want them cut into pieces while still alive, and I want you to make a bloody mess of them."

Bucky flinched. That was the command that he had known was coming. He knew his handler too well. He'd been expecting of it and afraid of it. Brock lifted his chin and forced him to look into his eyes. "It must be done," he murmured, sympathetically looking at Bucky.

Tears were in Bucky's eyes. He knew he had no choice but to obey. It would be a difficult mission, they both knew, but only because of Bucky's emotions. And yet, they both knew that it would destroy Striker and Manning's rebellions.

Brock stepped away. He went to pour himself some water. "You'll do the deed at night." He took a swig of his drink and then set it down, moving towards the door. "Come," he commanded, and Bucky had no choice. He was led out of the house and back into the Hydra base. The man then took him to his weapons locker, where Bucky's Winter Soldier uniform was hanging up. He trembled as he saw it, and Rumlow sent him some comfort. Motioning to the uniform with his head, Brock commanded, "Get changed."

Having no choice, and feeling the push of the bond, Bucky was a prisoner inside his own body as he watched his own body comply against his will. As he came out of the locker room, he moved and put his weapons belts on, strapping on his ammunition and his guns. He did his best to dissociate from the situation, but he was unable to. Finally, turning to Brock, he was handed his Winter Soldier googles and mask. He couldn't help but tremble as he was forced to comply.

As Bucky took it, trembling, Brock put a hand on his shoulder. He took the items out of his hand, sending him comfort. Instead, Brock personally put on the mask on Bucky, going behind Bucky to put it on. Then he put the goggles on him, tying it gently, but securely.

Bucky's expression couldn't be made out anymore due to his face being covered. But Brock could still feel his emotional turmoil. He put a hand on Bucky's shoulder, squeezing him gently. "It'll be all right," he comforted the man, well aware that Bucky couldn't cry due to the amount of distress he was in. "It'll be all right." He hugged Bucky and held him gently for a while while Bucky's emotions rushed out of him. Bucky was choking, quiet tears going down his eyes.

When Brock released him, he gently wiped them away. Bucky calmed down slightly, having no choice, having a mission to do. "It's time," Brock ordered his Asset and led Bucky to the team. Jack was waiting there, a compassionate glance sent Bucky's way when he saw how quiet Bucky was. Both he and Brock knew what this meant: Bucky was having an emotionally hard time.

Brock nodded to Jack. "Make sure it gets done," he ordered and the man nodded, summoning the team into the vehicle that was waiting for them.

Bucky followed reluctantly, his body a prison. He was on autopilot, watching from inside himself, having no control over his body.

Bucky entered the vehicle.

(Winter Soldier Point of View)

Bucky was a prisoner. The Winter Soldier moved silently through the complex. Gunshots sounded in the distance as his team engaged with the enemy forces.

Stalking towards a room, the Winter Soldier moved as silently as a ghost. Finally, he rounded a corner. Hearing the breathing of the guard that was waiting outside the quarters, he dispatched them quickly and silently, just as he had done before he'd killed Manning.

He swaggered towards the door, ignoring the dead, bleeding bodies. Silently opening the door, he saw Striker inside. He strode silently forward, no weapons in his hands.

Striker was at his desk, tapping his feet in a nervous impatience. When he looked up and saw the Winter Soldier, he jumped and screeched, backing away. The Winter Soldier swiftly brought out a knife from his weapons belt behind him, and Striker backed away in fear. "No... No!" he begged.

The Winter Soldier slunk forward.

Winter could guess how scary it was, seeing a ghost with a mask and goggles called the Winter Soldier, stalking towards you, ready and intent to kill you. Striker knew what was to become of him. But the Winter Soldier didn't pursue the thought as he had a job to do.

It was not a quick kill. It was not a clean kill. Striker was essentially tortured to death, per his handler's orders, just like Manning was. He was to make an example of what every traitor would suffer, just like Manning was.

It took a couple of hours, just like with Manning. Terrified and painful screams echoed all through that time.

By the time the Winter Soldier was done, his body was splattered with blood. That had not been the case with Manning because he had been ordered to do the worse to Striker.

The Winter Soldier silently stalked back to his team, heading back to the car. When the others joined them, the entire base massacred, none left alive, Jack nodded at him, seeing his bloody suit. "I see you did a good job," the man commented, a small, approving smirk on his face.

The Winter Soldier said nothing. He couldn't say anything.

Bucky Barnes wanted to mourn.

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky was crying in his handler's arms. He'd been crying non stop for over ten hours straight. The moment the Winter Soldier came back the personnel made him get changed back into his regular clothes, and had made him take a shower to get the blood off of him. Then he was brought straight to his handler for a report. But it wasn't until Bucky saw his handler that he was able to return.

He'd been in the office alone, and when Rumlow came in, they made eye contact. Bucky immediately collapsed into his handler's arms and burst into tears, completely back. He hadn't even been able to give his mission report, nor had Brock asked for him. The man merely held him, comforting him.

Brock had led him over to the chairs and let him cry, holding him the whole time. Still, ten hours later, Bucky showed no signs of stopping. Brock held him tighter.

"Shhh," he began hushing him gently, rocking him gently back and forth. Bucky held on tighter, still showing no signs of stopping.

It wasn't until the twelfth hour of crying that Bucky stated to give any inclination that he was starting to calm down. Brock soothed him and rocked him even more. "Shh, Bucky," he whispered. "It's going to be all right. You're going to be fine. You're safe, you know. You're safe now."

It still took another three hours for Bucky to calm down. Ultimately, it was exhaustion that got him to stop. Even Rumlow was exhausted from the sheer length of it all. None the less, he rocked Bucky back and forth until the man was able to settle down. But before Brock could get a report, Bucky fell asleep. The man let him sleep.

When Bucky woke, he was sleeping in a cot that had been placed in Rumlow's office. Some blankets were over him, and to his surprise bed sheets were under him as well. Rumlow was sleeping in his chair at his desk, but he stirred awake when he sensed his Asset awake.

Bucky was still in emotional shock from everything that had happened to him. Rumlow sent compassion to him. Scooting his chair closer, he ran his hand through Bucky's hair in a soothing manner. "Hey," he encouraged. Tears began streaming down Bucky's face again, and he sobbed slightly. "It'll be all right," Rumlow reassured him.

Bucky couldn't bring himself to face what he had done. It was horrifying knowing that he had killed someone again, and the memories were so vivid. He hated this. He hated being a slave. He hated being an Asset and being forced to kill someone.

Looking away, the tears streaming down without stop, Bucky found himself inconsolable.

Brock brought his face back to him with his fingers. His eyes were filled with sympathy and compassion. "Mission report," he demanded softly.

Knowing he had no choice but to obey, Bucky replied, stuttering slightly as he sobbed, "All tar...targets as-assigned d-dead. M-mission completed."

Rumlow nodded, not pressing for more information, seeing the state that Bucky was in. Though he probably wanted to hear all the gory details for his satisfaction, for Bucky's sake he didn't ask. "Well done," he praised instead, and Bucky began crying harder.

As the man saw this, he sent more comfort to Bucky again, and he ran his hand through Bucky's hair more in an effort to calm him down more. But Bucky couldn't calm down, slightly sobbing. When Rumlow saw this, he sighed sadly, continuing to run his hand through Bucky's hair in a comforting manner. Getting his earpiece out, he summoned others to the room. "Doctors to my office." His voice was soft as he said this, and he gazed at Bucky sadly.

Bucky continued crying, and as the doctors came in, he was only vaguely aware as they talked with Rumlow. Then one of them disappeared. A short time later, that doctor came back with a syringe in his hand.

Bucky didn't fight them as they injected him. He didn't care at this point. He just wanted the pain of everything to end.

Bucky fell into a deep sleep.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow was tapping his fingers at his desk, deep in thought. His precious Asset had been taken to the infirmary so that he could receive treatment as he slept peacefully. Brock didn't want him disturbed until then. His Asset needed time to calm down.

Sighing, Brock summoned Jack with a text. It wasn't five minutes later and then the man popped up. "Something up?" he asked, cheerful, but even Brock could see the concern for him and perhaps his Asset in his eyes. He knew that Jack had become fond of Bucky during their time playing basketball together.

Brock motioned for the door to be shut, and it was. "Yes," he admitted, still deep in thought. "I can't help but notice that despite the fact that the mission went according to plan, everything's turned out disastrously."

"You mean Bucky?" Jack questioned, and his face was instantly serious.

Brock nodded. "This seems to be the death blow to him," was Brock's humorous without intending humor statement. Then the man sighed and was serious again. "I can't have him keep going through this every time I send him on a mission. It's affecting me."

Jack was hesitant, but he nodded, sitting down without permission. But due to their close nature, Brock tolerated. He didn't say anything as Jack situated himself even though it was technically inappropriate. "That is hard," he mused, deep in thought. Concern for Bucky was also in his eyes.

Sighing, Brock looked away, prepared to voice his radical new idea to Jack. "I remember," he started carefully. "That when I was taking Bucky back to Hydra, I had to keep him under explicit control via the commander's codes." He watched as Jack nodded. He paused before carefully continuing. "But they had an effect on him, I noticed. It's like, some of them caused him to go into the Winter Soldier state."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked. "You mean force him to comply, like some of those Russian codes we'd previously used on him used to do?"

Brock shook his head. "Not exactly," he admitted. "At least, I don't think that's what those codes were doing, in hindsight. They can control him, yes, but I think there's more to it than that. When Bucky came out of it, he seemed to be unaware of what he'd done. It's almost like he'd dissociated. I'm not going to go quite to the extent and say that it was like a split personality was emerging, but it was almost like that. It's like there was another state out that was compliant, that was the Soldier, and almost like this state was shielding him from the horrors of what he was doing, the horrors of what was happening. I think that's what those Russian codes were doing."

"An interesting theory," Jack replied, deep in thought as he contemplated the ramifications of that.

Leaning forward more, Brock continued. "But don't you see?" he replied. "Bucky seemed unaware of what he'd done. So how's he supposed to grieve when he's unaware of what happened? All he knew was that time past and that something happened. But he didn't know exactly what happened. Therefore there was nothing to grieve for, even if he was suspicious."

Jack was listening intently, caught up in what Brock was saying. "What is it you're asking?" he questioned, not quite sure what his leader was getting at.

"What I'm saying," Brock retorted softly. "Is that that's what we need right now. He can't handle the deeds as Bucky Barnes. But, as the Soldier he can. We'll still have to train him as Bucky Barnes, and naturally the Soldier will be able to use the new skills. Bucky's slightly dissociated, I think. But, we can use that to our advantage, to shield Bucky from all the pain he's experiencing. We need to find a way to send the Soldier into battle from now on. That way, he can do the deeds, and Bucky won't have to deal with it."

"But you said that he knows that something is going on when that's happened. You've said so yourself," Jack pointed out, none the less he seemed intrigued and interested.

Brock nodded. "There are flaws in the plan," he admitted. "And that is a quirk we're going to have to figure out. But it's well worth it."

"But perhaps impossible," Jack pointed out. "You're talking about trying to make it to where Bucky doesn't know that anything is happening, that he doesn't notice a giant gap in his memory, let alone a giant gap in time. I just don't see that as doable. Why not simply train and teach Bucky to handle it?"

"That won't work," Brock shook his head, leaning back. "You didn't see him afterwords. He was devastated. I can't do that to him again."

"But isn't that what the therapists are for?" Jack pointed out.

Brock sighed. "That's takes time. You know that. And it's time that we don't have. Even though it will probably only take him a few months until he's able to handle it, we don't have that kind of time. Yes, we'll continue the training and therapy, but in the meanwhile, this is a way to tide things over."

"But it still takes time," Jack pointed out.

Shaking his head, Brock replied, "Not necessarily. He's already adapted to this state. We just need to figure out a way to bring it out on command and to make sure that Bucky doesn't know when he slips in and out of this state. I have a relative idea on how to do it. I just need to talk to his therapist and see if this idea is valid."

Jack nodded. "Well, I see that you're already decided. And he **_is_** yours to do with as you please. So, I don't see why you're telling **_me_** about all this."

"You know that I value your opinion," Brock whispered softly to his friend. "That hasn't changed since I became leader. I'll _**always**_ value your opinion."

Nodding after he was answered, Jack responded, "It's worth a shot. That's my opinion. And if we can pull it off, all the better. I don't like hearing Bucky cry like I heard this time. I passed your office several times. I hate to say it, but the kid has grown on me. It made me all feelly, and I don't like that."

Brock smiled some, softly, somewhat amused. But his expression was concurrent with Jack. "Same here," Brock admitted. "The kid's grown on me to, not that he likes being called kid. I don't care whether or not he does or not. He's _**my**_ kid. He's somehow wiggled his way into my heart." Brock frowned all of a sudden. "And he wasn't supposed to do that."

"I think in your case, it's the bond," Jack pointed out.

Brock shook his head. "Only partly. He'd already wiggled his way into my heart as I was bringing him over and back to Hydra," the man admitted. "There was just something about him that couldn't help make me feel sympathetic to him and his plight."

"Same here," Jack agreed.

Both were silent as they observed each other. That both had a concern of Bucky on their face was evident.

Brock sighed. "I suppose I should check on him," the man mused, deep in thought as he pondered on his Asset.

Jack nodded. "A good idea." He got up, shook Brock's hand, and then headed out the door.

As Brock watched his best friend leave, he thought on Bucky's pain. He didn't like the idea of the man pushing through it. It only led to more trauma. While ideally, it would be nice for Bucky to learn to handle the things he was required to do, realistically, Bucky was resistant. Even then, he was in so much pain that it might be some time before they were able to bring him to that state of coping as Bucky Barnes.

No, the best idea was still to let the Winter Soldier take over and do the things that Bucky was supposed to do.

(Steve Point of View)

Steve was choking. He was torn. While he hadn't heard exactly what they'd found as he hadn't been able to handle the thought of Bucky being hurt, he wasn't sure if he should read the files they found or not. Part of it was that his thoughts were still on getting Bucky back. It seemed mute point to look at the file when they were supposed to be searching for Bucky.

T'Challa hadn't found anything. That disturbed him. Bucky had essentially vanished without a trace.

Pacing back and forth in his room, already missing Bucky's company, he pondered his next move. If Bucky wasn't back by tomorrow, he was going to have to do something. Bucky had been left with Hydra long enough. It was time to jail break him.

Sighing, he went over everything they had on Rumlow's recent movements. Unfortunately, that was nothing. However, there were clues.

That someone else had gone after Bucky when Bucky had been sold to Hydra, they knew. Perhaps that was a starting point. After all, evidence suggested that they were still looking for him, as well.

They didn't have much on the organization. All they could tell was that it was some sort of religious, terroist faction for a religion that no one had heard of yet. It seemed to be one of those cult groups.

Steve shuddered to think of what would have happened if they'd gotten a hold of Bucky. It was bad enough that he was and had been brainwashed by a Nazi terrorist cult. To think of him being brainwashed by yet another cult sent shudders up his spine.

This cult was into the buying and selling of slaves for labor camps. That much they knew. So why they needed killers, if only for a way to scare the people in their camps, Steve didn't know, nor did his colleagues. But he shivered again. Bucky wasn't a killer. He shouldn't think of him like that.

'Come on,' he thought to himself. 'Think, think, think.' After all, something had to turn up indirect evidence of Bucky, even if it wasn't this group.

At that point, there was a knock on his door. "Come in," he allowed.

Natasha walked in, dressed in a red suit with concern on her face. "Still thinking about Bucky?" she guessed.

Steve nodded. "Even if we can't get direct evidence on where he's at, surely there's something that can give indirect evidence of him."

Nat nodded. "That was just what I was thinking." then, pulling out a piece of paper from her pockets, she handed it to Steve.

Steve took it, and with grief he immediately noticed Bucky's handwriting. It only sent images to him of when they were younger. "You think a clue might be contained in his handwriting?" Steve raised an eyebrow, desperate for something.

"Possibly," Natasha confirmed. "We know he was going through a hard time and wasn't exactly thinking straight. While I seriously doubt that he accidentally leaked something, this might still give us a clue as to his mindset."

"And this helps us how?" Steve demanded.

There was a pause, as if she were wondering how to approach it. "We have words from him as to how he was thinking before the Hydra kidnapping event. Evidently, something's changed. Even his therapists have noted it. This might change how he addresses things, how he approaches problems and situations. Psychologically if we can figure that out, we might be able to piece together places he might have gone or is being held."

"How does this help us, though?" Steve questioned, his hand with the paper being let down by his side. "You heard him. He's being controlled by someone else."

"Which might figure into his psychology, now," Natasha continued. "I'm already working with T'Challa's doctors on this. Believe it or not, this is a possibility. Because he's being controlled, this might get us some insight into his kidnapper and how his kidnapper thinks. Obviously, they've been anticipating our moves. This might give us an edge into anticipating _**their**_ moves."

Steve nodded. "Enough to trap them?" he questioned, hopeful.

Now, Natasha was hesitant again. "I don't know about that," she admitted. "But it might give us an edge enough to get Bucky back, to reason with him a bit."

"It's worth the effort, then," Steve concluded. But there was one thing he wanted to know first. "How does this help him since he's being controlled? He's not likely to be reasoned with in that state."

"Maybe," Natasha concluded. "But it might be enough for us to figure out how to use Bucky against them, give Bucky an edge. Maybe Bucky can be used to influence them."

"Use Bucky!" Steve was in outrage.

Natasha held her hand up. "If it gave him his freedom, if it saved his life, would you be willing to do it?"

Steve was hesitant. "Well... yes..." he admitted finally.

Natasha shrugged. "Well, there you go."

Steve was still reluctant to go through with the plan. Now that the idea of using Bucky was on the table, he wasn't sure that he could do this let alone handle it. He hoped it didn't go that far.

Unfortunately for him, Natasha was watching him closely, compassion on his face. "I know how much you care for him," she murmured softly. "You'll get him back."

Steve said nothing, looking down, his head in worry, full of thoughts.

When Natasha realized that she wasn't going to get anything more out of him and wasn't going to be able to comfort him more, she moved towards the door. "I'll see you soon," she commented.

Steve nodded.

Natasha left.

(Bucky Point of View)

When Bucky woke up from his deep sleep, he was surprised to see that he was in the infirmary. He hadn't expected that. He was completely expecting to wake up in his cage.

Looking at his flesh arm, he noticed the IV stuck in him. It was keeping him calm. He groaned.

He wasn't sure what he felt about the calm feeling he was feeling. He knew that it was artificially induced, but he wasn't sure if he appreciated that or not. It was so hard to tell lately what his genuine feelings were, especially with all the medicine he was being given, and because of the bond. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he was Rumlow or Bucky. Sometimes, he simply wasn't sure if he was feeling Rumlow's feelings or his own.

Relaxing slightly, he drifted off for a little bit. It wasn't until he felt his handler sit in the seat beside him that he decided to come to the surface of his consciousness and wake up.

His handler was looking at him in concern. The little bit of energy that was in him made him aware that his file was in Rumlow's lap again, shut. "How are you feeling?" the man murmured.

His speech was slurry, but evidently his handler understood, especially with the bond and his feelings combined. "'s all right."

"No," his handler frowned, pure worry in his eyes. "No you're not."

Bucky used more of his precious energy to look at him. "What are you doin' here?" he slurred.

Brock was hesitant, but then he relaxed some, looking away. Then he looked into his lap, clasping his hands together. "I was worried about you," he admitted.

Bucky frowned. If Brock was so concerned about him, then why did he do the things that he did?

Brock must have felt his feelings for he sent pure compassion and comfort his way. Looking at him, he replied, "You know why."

Nodding, Bucky looked away. Bucky was loved, but he was second to Hydra. Everyone must obey Hydra.

"But that doesn't make me any less worried," Brock murmured softly.

A lone tear went down Bucky's face. "'s hard," his speech slurred, and Rumlow moved closer, instantly placing an hand on his cheek in compassion.

"You'll get used to it," Rumlow replied, but for some reason it seemed more like he was trying to reassure himself.

Bucky wasn't so sure about that. It was such a hard thing, how could he ever get used to it? Feeling what he was feeling, Rumlow looked like he was ready to cry. "I want you to be happy," he confessed. The man looked away. "It's hard on me when things are hard on you. I'm going to let you relax from now on. You won't be in the cell anymore. I'm taking you back home. With your obedience in this operation, you've earned it."

Though Bucky was relieved to be out of the cell, he knew what home meant: he was going back to Rumlow's house. Evidently, the man thought that it would be more comfortable for him than a cell. While it certainly had luxuries, Bucky wasn't sure that it was necessarily more comfortable. Only time, and going back to the room could tell.

That, and he wasn't sure that it was complete obedience. He was forced because of the bond, after all. But, at Rumlow's expression, he reconsidered. "I know you were reluctant and I had to use the bond," Rumlow murmured softly. "But you also didn't beg, so you're being rewarded."

Bucky frowned. He didn't beg because there was no point. Rumlow would punish him if he did.

Brock looked at him again. "We're going to spend some time together," he informed the man. "Some _**quality**_ time."

For some reason, that made Bucky feel much better. He didn't know why, but he was looking forward to it. Spending some time with his handler sounded and felt like a good idea.

"Also," Brock continued on. "I've talked to everyone. We're going to start backing you off the medication. It'll be slowly, so that we don't cause any complications. But I don't think the medicines are doing any good or helping. Maybe, sometimes, they might be needed to calm you down, but you seem a bit too disoriented with them. I'd like to see you in your natural state. Besides, some of them were having... side effects."

Bucky felt relieved but shivered at the thought of side effects. Still, he couldn't help the feelings of relief that went through him. It was nice to know that he'd finally have himself back a little. "And what about me seeing Steve?" he tried to chance.

Brock smiled in amusement some, a soft smile, and shook his head in a fond manner. "Sorry, but you're still under punishment. Maybe show me that you can be willingly obedient first, and then I'll let go of the rest that needs to be worked on and let you go back sooner."

He was a little disappointed, but it was progress. He still frowned at the obedient part. "It's not that hard, Bucky," Brock tried to reassure him, and Bucky frowned harder. "You saw how you didn't beg earlier?"

"You mean, I have no choice?"

Brock frowned at the way Bucky worded things. "You may be limited in your choices, but that doesn't mean you **_don't_** have a choice. I assure you, you're going to have some choices coming up. For one, I promised you an education. For another, I want your opinion on some things."

"My opinion?!" Bucky was startled, choosing to ignore the whole education thing. He wasn't sure that he was looking forward to that.

Brock ignored his feelings on the education part. "Yeah," he admitted. But then, the man looked at the clock. Seeing the time, he frowned and tapped Bucky on the knees. "I have to go," he told Bucky. "But we'll talk soon."

Bucky couldn't understand why, but he was looking forward to that. "Yeah," he softly commented back.

Brock got up and went to the door. But when he reached the door, hand on the doorknob, he stopped to look back at Bucky in a concerned manner. Then he exited.

The door shut behind Brock.

(Some time later)

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky was currently being escorted to therapy, not that he liked that. He didn't know why Brock was so lenient further, but as far as he was concerned, there was a lot of progress to be made between him and Brock. Speaking of the man, he'd been informed by James that he and Brock were going to have therapy and counseling together under a different therapist that day. When Bucky asked why, they wouldn't answer him. They merely told him that they thought that it was a good idea, and that this therapist might be a better fit for Bucky.

Bucky wasn't too sure about that.

Brock wasn't here yet, and he and his guards which included Jack Rollins were waiting outside an empty therapist's office.

Shivering some, Bucky used his hands to rub his arms. As he was still under punishment, he still wasn't allowed to wear the clothing that Brock had gotten for him. Bucky wasn't sure whether that was good or bad. On one had, his clothing and outfit for the day were picked for him. On the other hand, all the clothing that Brock had gotten had some sort of Hydra emblem on it, or something to do with Hydra on it. But, at least he could pick out his clothing to wear for the day. Truth be told, though, Bucky wasn't sure which was worse.

Jack looked at him in concern when he saw Bucky rubbing his arms. The man was wearing a jacket. "You cold?" he asked.

Bucky nodded fervently. He tended to get cold easier than the rest, especially since being re-abducted by Hydra, and more especially since then when he was with Hydra. Luckily, when Jack saw this, he lent him his coat, and Bucky took it gratefully. He wrapped it around him, but since it was too small, he wasn't able to put his arms through the coat or wrap it all the way around him. But he was grateful for some of the warmth it provided, none the less.

Maybe it was a psychological thing. Maybe it wasn't. But the cold always unnerved him, and since he tended to get colder easier than the rest, he tended to be more unnerved. For that very reason, warmth was comforting. Brock hadn't had him that long when he'd figured it out. Since then, Bucky tended to get blankets, and to his surprise, Brock would sometimes drape a blanket around him for no reason at all. It was very comforting.

Finally, Brock showed up, a few guards with him. He nodded to Bucky when he saw him, and to Bucky's surprise (though he really shouldn't have been, with the bond and Brock feeling everything he was feeling), Brock had brought him a blanket. Bucky accepted it gratefully.

After Bucky had put the blanket around him, the man informed him, "I've rearranged the place we're having therapy."

They began escorting Bucky down a different set of hallways, and Bucky looked at his handler in curiosity. "Why?" he asked.

Brock shook his head. "It's a bigger room," he admitted. "And we thought you might want some space during the appointment."

This was a curious answer to Bucky, but he chose to let it go. He had much bigger, much worse things to think about coming up.

It was as they were coming up, that he heard the scuffling of footsteps. The therapist's office had to be around the corner, and with other soldiers blocking his line of vision, he couldn't see entirely in front of him.

Finally, he heard a voice as they rounded the corner. "Sorry I'm late."

Something inside Bucky went stone cold. That voice was familiar. He felt his heart dropping and as they rounded the corner, Bucky froze in solid fear.

Dr. Plouff smiled up at Bucky in genuine warmth.

Bucky couldn't see his own expression, but the other soldiers were looking at him in worry, including his handler. He felt his body cringing and the blood draining from his face. All he could think of was denial, and then betrayal, betrayal, betrayal. He didn't understand why this was happening. Dr. Plouff had been so compassionate to him. How could he be Hydra?

He wasn't aware of what his body was doing, but instinctively, he tried to back up. However, the soldiers behind him stopped him.

Rumlow was frowning in worry. "Bucky?" he reached out his hand and Bucky cringed away, shaking his head in denial. "No," he whispered, shock in his face.

He felt himself falling, and Rumlow immediately stepped forward to catch him before he could fall on his back. "No!... I don't understand..."

Brock cradled him, but he felt so numb and cold.

"No."

(A few hours later)

Bucky was rocking back and forth on the couch in the therapy room, the door shut, his legs to his chest, in pure shock. He heard his handler talking to Dr. Plouff. "I've never seen him in such a state before," he was voicing in worry.

"Let me try to reach out to him," Dr. Plouff reassured his handler, and next thing he knew, Dr. Plouff was kneeling beside him. "Bucky?" he asked the man. Bucky didn't respond even though he could see the therapist out of the corner of his eyes. He didn't want to acknowledge the man.

Dr. Plouff was frowning. "I'm still the same man that you knew. You **_can_** talk to me."

A shiver went down Bucky's spine. He shook his head. "How long?" he finally spoke, the first time in hours. He stopped rocking back and forth. He squeezed his knees tighter. He was still numb from the betrayal, still in shock.

Compassion was on Dr. Plouff's face. "Not long," the man admitted. "But shortly before I met you, and shortly before you were even recommended to me."

Bucky turned slightly to him then. As painful as it was, he wanted the truth; he wanted answers. "You were Hydra the whole time I knew you?"

"Yes," Dr. Plouff admitted carefully. But then he placed a soft hand on Bucky's knees. When Bucky flinched, the man pulled his hands away. "But that doesn't mean that I never cared for you. The truth is, I'm a low level Hydra agent. So low, in fact, that if it weren't for the fact that I knew you, I wouldn't have been involved with you at all. The truth is, they left me alone with you, for the most part. They never had me do anything to you. I was allowed to treat you as any other patient I saw, and they never interfered. I've _**always**_ had the desire for you to get better."

Bucky turned a little more towards Dr. Plouff. "Then what **_did_** they have you do?"

Dr. Plouff was silent for a moment. He finally responded. "I was only used to keep an eye on you, to pass on information. I was never allowed to be involved in Hydra's treatment of you. That wasn't my clearance, nor my responsibility. But once Mr. Rumlow became leader of Hydra, he began requesting that I transfer your records from my office to him and Hydra on regular occasions. But that's all he's ever had me do. Neither he, nor any other member of Hydra has dictated how I treat you. I've always had the freedom, there, to address your treatment as I saw fit. And for all I know, it went against what Hydra was trying to do with you. I'd never know. I'm just a low level Hydra agent. I'm hardly of any consequence."

It didn't make Bucky feel better, but Bucky guessed it would be okay to start talking. He felt horrible knowing that Dr. Plouff was apart of the very organization that had harmed him before. Why the man would do that, he couldn't understand. And he couldn't help it. He burst out crying, head on his knees.

Rumlow went to sit beside him and put an arm around him. Dr. Plouff tapped him gently on the knees. "There you go," he encouraged. "Let it all out."

And that's what Bucky did, as Rumlow held him.

Finally, Bucky looked up. "I don't understand," he said. He looked at Dr. Plouff. "Why?!"

A sad look was on Dr. Plouff's face as he saw the turmoil and the betrayal, the pain, in Bucky's eyes. Finally, the man responded, "Hydra's work, I can agree with. They want to make the world a better place, and so do I. The world is full of so much corruption, so much that you have no idea. But I've seen it. And Hydra's going to get rid of that, especially now that we're under Brock's leadership."

Bucky couldn't help it as he burst into tears again. His world had just been flipped upside down, and he didn't understand half of what was going on, truth be told. It was as if he was in a dream, a terrible nightmare.

"Were you encouraged to be my therapist?" Bucky asked bitterly, wiping the tears from his eyes. Rumlow squeezed him harder and sent him comfort.

"No," Dr. Plouff admitted. "Actually, I wasn't supposed to be involved in your care at all. It all happened by chance. You and Steve reached out to me, and as a doctor, I had room, so I couldn't turn you away. And I knew you needed help. I didn't **_want_** to turn you away."

"And how much of our relationship was fake," Bucky demanded to know, a little bit of anger developing in his chest. He had trusted the man so much. The man had worked so hard, had jumped through hoops, to gain his trust. It hurt Bucky to know that that trust was misplaced.

"None of it," Dr. Plouff admitted, and Bucky looked away bitterly.

At this point, Brock decided to step in. "Bucky," he reassured him. "Hydra didn't involve themselves in your care in the outside world. It was only while you were in _**this**_ facility."

His heart was damaged. Bucky wasn't sure how much more he could take. If Dr. Plouff was Hydra without his knowing, how many others had he interacted with and unbeknownst to him were Hydra? Minus Cap, of course. _**He'd**_ never betray Bucky and become Hydra.

"Why?" he demanded to know again.

Dr. Plouff sat down. "You're in shock," he admitted. "It's normal. I didn't think this was a good idea, and I voiced it to Mr. Rumlow. But Mr. Rumlow was insistent."

Bucky leaned his head against his handler's shoulder, still slightly mad. The man held him. "You deceived me," he accused Dr. Plouff.

"I did withhold information," Dr. Plouff admitted, keeping calm. "But could you really blame me? It wouldn't have gone well with anyone if they'd known I was Hydra."

But from the look on Bucky's face, yes, he could blame him. "I can't trust you," Bucky ground out, anger in his gaze as he looked away.

"Bucky," Brock reprimanded slightly. "You're going to have to get used to this. He's going to be your therapist when you get back."

"Not if I'm in Wakanda," Bucky ground out, clenching his fists.

And Brock shook his head. "Who said you're going to Wakanda? I think we ruined that plan. As it is, the fact that Wakanda lost you isn't going to go well with anyone, if they find out."

"If they find out," Bucky pointed out.

Brock squeezed him and sent pure compassion his way. "I know it's hard," he tried to reassure him. "But please give Dr. Plouff another chance! I think he can help us heal our broken friendship."

"Were you ever my friend?" Bucky challenged.

The man sighed, and at this point, both Brock and Dr. Plouff realized that they weren't going to make any progress with Bucky in this state. "Give him a few more hours," Dr. Plouff advised. "And then you can come back for your therapy session. I think he needs time to calm down and deal with the realities of this incident."

Brock nodded. "Will do."

With that, Brock led Bucky to his house and put him to bed. This time, it wasn't comforting when he was tucked in by Rumlow.

Bucky couldn't help the feelings of anger as he fell asleep.

(Some time later)

(Bucky Point of View)

Now that he was a bit more calm, he was a bit more cooperative in therapy. He was still a bit unnerved by the latest development, but nowhere the amount he was when it had first happened.

He and his handler were sitting on the same couch, side by side, and they were facing Dr. Plouff. Dr. Plouff was in the middle of writing some things down. "Can you tell me more?" he asked Bucky, and Bucky sighed.

"I don't know how to explain it!" he ground out.

"Just try," Dr. Plouff gently reassured him.

Growling, Bucky looked away, out the fake window into the hallway. "I don't like being controlled," was all he could say. They were discussing the latest incident that had led to Bucky being forbidden from seeing Steve for the moment. "I feel oppressed."

Dr. Plouff nodded and wrote it all down, just like he did when they were in 'regular' appointments back in the United States. It was all so familiar to Bucky that it was alarming and he was unnerved. But they pushed forward, none the less.

Dr. Plouff decided to push more. "How much of this do you think has to do with the past?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Bucky growled in sarcasm. "How about everything!"

Dr. Plouff's face was neutral. "And you are still scared of Zola?"

Bucky went stalk still. It had been a while since he and his therapist had talked about Zola. Plus, this was only a haunting reminder that the man that he had once trusted he had poured out his heart to on many occasions. He felt so deceived.

Bucky looked away. Things were so fresh with Dr. Plouff that it was a sensitive subject. Brock prompted Bucky through the bond. "Bucky?"

Bucky didn't want to answer, but with Rumlow he had no choice. "I think it's obvious," he responded. When he felt a prompting to get more specific, Bucky added, "Yeah. I'm still scared of Zola." He wiggled around a bit, and then he finally looked up at Dr. Plouff. "What does this have to do with anything, though?"

Dr. Plouff shrugged. "It's where it all began."

Bucky growled. This whole process was grating on his nerves.

Dr. Plouff was watching him. Rumlow was too, but he remained silent and let Dr. Plouff do his work. For a while, Dr. Plouff didn't say anything. He merely observed Bucky. Then, he leaned forward. "Are you scared of any new occurrences with Hydra?"

Bucky stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Dr. Plouff replied softly. "Are you scared of facing with Hydra again what you faced in the past?"

He couldn't help the whimper that went out his throat. Bucky nodded, unable to say anything else. He really didn't want to voice it.

"Tell me more," Dr. Plouff prompted.

This was so hard on Bucky. He looked up at his handler with pleading eyes, but Rumlow shook his head, prompting Bucky to obey. "Be obedient. No begging, remember? You shouldn't try to manipulate me."

He hated it. He hated being forced to comply. But he had no choice.

Rumlow squeezed Bucky tighter, sending him comfort. "I know how hard this is on you," he murmured softly.

Bucky was shaking. "Hydra hurt me in the past," and his voice was trembling as he struggled to keep a hold on his emotions. His handler prompted him to let it all out, and he did. It came out in a flurry. "Since Hydra's hurt me in the past, why wouldn't they again? They already hurt me when Rumlow brought me over. Yeah, I know it's new management. But still! I don't believe in the cause, and everybody's trying to force me to stick with it. Everything Hydra did to me in the past was all about force, and even though you're using different methods, it's still force."

Tears were pouring down his cheeks, and he looked away. "I want my freedom," he moaned. He was shaking harder, and he leaned into his handler for support. "I'm stressed. Whether or not you physically hurt me is not the issue. Well, it is an issue. The issue is is that taking away someone's freedom is still hurting them. Don't you understand that?! You're a doctor! You should! Being forced to do things _**never**_ makes you feel safe. So, why are you doing it?"

As he looked up at Rumlow, he noticed that the man's face was very concerned. "Trying to reassure me won't change anything," he whispered to his handler.

A long silence followed, and Rumlow and Dr. Plouff looked at each other. A silent conversation seemed to be taking place, and Bucky didn't understand any of it. But there was definite concern there. Bucky could feel it emanating from his handler to him, uncontrolled.

Dr. Plouff tore out the paper from his notebook. "I think we're done for the day. I know we didn't spend full time, but that doesn't change that you need a break."

Bucky was relieved. He didn't think that he could go through more.

His handler helped him up, keeping Bucky in his arms still. "Well done," he murmured, sending praise through the bond as well. But there was still a lot of concern there.

Bucky hugged him. Rumlow wrapped him tightly with both arms. "Please don't force me to do anything ever again," Bucky begged. Rumlow was silent, but Bucky felt a lone tear drip into his hair on the top of his head as Rumlow held him. Rumlow was crying. He said nothing.

He didn't know why, but he just stayed there and allowed himself to be held. It was remarkably comforting. He didn't want the man to let go of him. He felt safe when he was wrapped in his handler's arms. And he was exhausted.

More tears from Rumlow dropped in his hair. But, as the man sensed Bucky's tiredness, he pulled away. "Time to go home," his soft voice sounded, squeezing Bucky's shoulders in reassurance a little. Bucky nodded.

They made their way back to Rumlow's house, and when Bucky reached his room, he plopped down on the bed immediately.

He was out in the blink of an eye.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow was concerned. His Asset was in bed. But the recent events with Bucky had been anything but positive. And he couldn't help it as his heart bled. Bucky was suffering, and that suffering was affecting him.

But, even worse, he knew he was getting desperate. He needed to find a way to calm Bucky down, that way he could do his job and lead Hydra to victory. But with all the emotional feels Bucky was giving out, it was hard to do.

"What am I going to do?" Rumlow shook his head, a headache forming as he tried to figure his way out of this. Why couldn't Bucky get over everything that had happened and move on, give Hydra a second chance? That was what they'd been trying to do. He knew that they'd told him to be patient if he wanted to see results, but so far, in his opinion, nothing had worked. Bucky was still just as traumatized, if not more, than before. That wasn't supposed to happen.

He needed Bucky healed. Only then could Bucky give him and Hydra a second chance.

But Bucky was stuck in the past. He seemed unable to move forward. That meant that Rumlow might have to result to some extreme measures, which he didn't like. He thought that by bringing Dr. Plouff in, at the very least Bucky might be more cooperative and willing to open up, even though he knew there would be some roadblocks and issues at first. Dr. Plouff didn't seem to think so, but that was the least of Rumlow's concerns now.

Emotions gripped Bucky. Emotions gripped Rumlow. No matter how hard Rumlow worked to reign Bucky towards him, to reassure him that he'd be all right and that Hydra was the way, Bucky always seemed to go in the opposite direction, towards his nemesis Steve Rogers.

'Maybe having the Soldier a separate personality from Bucky is for the best,' Rumlow thought, considering everything. The only problem was that that didn't help Bucky's emo state. Rumlow would still be suffering from an emotional Bucky that wouldn't give Hydra a second chance. Bucky didn't even want to consider the fact that Hydra was different and that he could still have a good experience with Hydra.

There was a knock on his door. "Come in," Rumlow commanded. He pushed the button that unlocked the front door to his house.

The door opened revealing Jack Rollins. The man looked concerned. "I came to see how you were doing."

"Not well," Brock admitted, still in thought. He was sitting on the couch and Jack went to sit by him.

There was a pause. "It's Bucky, isn't it?"

Brock nodded. "I still can't figure out how to get him on our side."

"Maybe he needs a break," Jack suggested. When Brock looked up in curiosity, Jack suggested, "I know he's under punishment and is not supposed to see Steve, but maybe we can make an exception. Let him make a phone call."

"And trace it back to the base?" Brock was more stern with his voice.

Jack shook his head. "You know we have technology that even Wakanda doesn't have. We can ensure that there is no trace. So, give Bucky some bread crumbs on what good behavior is like. Let him phone call Steve. After all, with the mission, he earned it and received a reward of being out of his cage. And he was cooperative in therapy, despite the emotional incident of having it revealed that his doctor was Hydra all along. He's earned another reward for that. We should let him know that as long as he's good, he'll receive rewards."

Brock looked away. "A bit of training, then."

Jack nodded. "Some _**positive**_ training. It doesn't all have to be negative training. And the fact that he's being rewarded for good behavior needs to be _**emphasized more**_."

Brock seemed to be in deep thought after this. "It sounds like a good idea," he finally admitted. The man was calm.

"Good." Jack got up and stretched some. "I take it you'll let me know when you've talked to him?"

Amusement seemed to be on Brock's face. "What? Insubordination?" But there was a bit of playfulness on his face towards his friend.

Shrugging, Jack stared back in challenge. "We both know that you won't put me in the brig for that."

"Ah!" Brock waved him off with his hand in a shooing manner. "Go get going!"

"Will do!" Jack chuckled.

Brock went back to thinking when the man left.

(Bucky Point of View)

When Bucky woke up, his handler was by his side. The man was sitting in a chair by the side of his bed, watching him.

It was curious to Bucky. First of all, his handler had been so restrictive of him. Now he seemed to be in a thinking mood.

"Bucky," his handler began, and Bucky froze, staying in bed, listening carefully. Brock looked at him in full. "You did well this past mission. I know it was hard for you, but I'm proud of you. You also did well in therapy. I know it's been a bit up and down for you, so I got thinking. Yes, there are restrictions, and you were being punished, but I'm going to reward you for this good behavior. And I want you to know that when you are good, you _**will**_ be getting rewards. Because of all the hard work you've put in, including with the therapy session, I'm going to let you call Steve as your reward."

His eyes widened. Was Brock really offering it? "I'm... being rewarded?" he tried again carefully not sure if he heard correctly.

Rumlow nodded, smiling kindly at him. "I'm proud of you," he whispered.

Bucky wasn't sure what to make of that.

 **Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10: A Phone Call With Steve

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Ten: A Phone Call With Steve

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky wasn't sure what to make of Rumlow's offer to reward him. He didn't get to pick. And much as he wanted to talk to Steve, at the same time he didn't want to. He was afraid that there was an ulterior motive behind this, something to harm Steve with.

Rumlow seemed to pick up on his feelings. "There is no ulterior move behind this," he reassured Bucky. "It's a reward."

Bucky was still hesitant. But the strong desire to reconnect with his friend was overwhelming, and he couldn't help it. He finally gave in.

Looking up hungrily at his handler, he practically begged, "How soon?"

Shrugging, Rumlow sat down. "It's all dependent," the man said, sitting down. After a brief pause, he added, "The soonest I'm willing to do is tomorrow. You need more of a chance to calm down. When you're ready to make the phone call, we'll have to give you instructions on what you're allowed to say and what you're not allowed to say."

Nodding, Bucky reached out for his handler desperately. Rumlow took his hand. "Can we... do it tomorrow?"

Rumlow nodded immediately. "Of course," his smooth voice responded. "You earned it. Like I said, it's a reward."

He was shaking, and Rumlow sent strong feelings of comfort over. While he was excited for what was about to happen and that he was receiving a reward, at the same time, he was nervous. The fact that he was going to be restricted, though, didn't hinder him. It only made him more excited, and perhaps, anxious. He'd known that whatever happened, there would be restrictions. But maybe it would give him some insight into his handler's mind? Maybe it would help him be able to figure out his handler, that way he wouldn't step on the man's toes anymore and would earn more rewards. He was desperate for rewards. And anything that could reconnect him with Steve was welcome.

His handler seemed to sense his excitement and he smiled kindly. "Like he said," the man murmured, kneeling down. "You earned it."

Bucky went deep inside himself, in deep thought. But his mind couldn't help but think of one thing.

"I'm being rewarded."

(Rumlow Point of View)

That the man was pleased that Bucky finally seemed to accept the fact that he was being rewarded was evident on his face. Rollins, who was next to him in the elevator frowned. "Something wrong?"

"No!" Rumlow turned to him in surprised. "Everything's right! Bucky seems more eager to cooperate!"

"It's for the rewards, isn't it?" Rollins asked dryly.

Rumlow sighed. "Yeah," he admitted a little sadly. Now, if they could only get the man more cooperative without rewards as an incentive... Not that he wouldn't ever be rewarded. But, like a dog, he didn't want the man to rely on rewards just to be obedient and cooperative.

"We'll need to set things up," he said to Jack, deep in thought. "I'm following your advice, letting him talk with Steve. Steve seems to be a very big incentive for him, after all."

"Yup," Jack acknowledged, popping the "P".

Once more, Rumlow was in thought. "We don't want our location given away. But what's more than that, I want to use this opportunity to gauge the other side. No doubt they'll be doing the same thing. Our spies haven't been able to bring anything back yet. They don't even know where he's at, only that the king of Wakanda took him. We have no lay out on what they're discussing."

" _ **Your**_ spies," Jack corrected, reminding him that he was leader of Hydra now. It was sometimes hard for him to grasp that thought as he was still in awe that Pierce had bestowed upon him such an honor.

"My spies," Rumlow corrected himself while deep in thought. His mind went back to his precious Bucky. The man was still worried about him. In many ways, he still had feelings of concern going around. Bucky wasn't adjusting as well as he'd hoped, despite having Rumlow as a guardian. He was doing his best to reach out to Bucky, to comfort him, to help him adjust. And Bucky was still going through a hard time.

He hoped that the rewards would help calm Bucky down and reassure him that Hydra wasn't going to hurt him.

But, only time would tell.

(The next day)

Bucky was quiet as they had lunch together. The man seemed to be keeping to himself. Rumlow was watching him in worry.

"Are you excited?" the man asked, trying to get Bucky to feel happy that he was going to be talking to his friend once again.

To his disappointment, Bucky shook his head. "Tired," he stated, and though the man knew that it was true, he could tell that that wasn't the complete truth.

He leaned forward some. "Tell me what's wrong," he voiced in worry.

Bucky looked up in perplex. "But that's the thing. I don't know. I feel off, and I don't know why."

Rumlow nodded. His precious Bucky didn't quite understand his own feelings, or he hadn't quite processed them. Rumlow wasn't sure which it was.

Regardless, he didn't want his precious asset and beloved soldier feeling melancholy. And so, he was setting this up. "Try not to be so sad when you talk to Steve," Rumlow quietly instructed him. Bucky nodded, and Rumlow reached over, grasping both of his hands. "Try to lighten up! This is supposed to be a happy moment! This is a reward!"

Bucky slowly looked up and nodded. For the first time that lunch he touched his food. But Rumlow could feel the tension in Bucky's stomach as time passed, getting closer to the phone call. There was also a trepidation there, the man feeling like he had failed Steve.

Rumlow couldn't help the compassion he felt for him. He knew how hard this was on Bucky. But there was no way around it. They needed to throw Steve a bone, throw him off some. That, and he needed Bucky to function. To do that, unfortunately, Steve would have to be in the picture, as much as he disliked the man.

When Bucky was done eating, he looked up, almost desperate to get out of the phone call. Rumlow couldn't understand. He knew Bucky wanted this, that he wanted interaction with Steve. So why did his precious Asset feel torn?

He continued to observe him, but he wasn't really able to figure out Bucky's emotions any more than Bucky was.

Sighing, he let it go. It wouldn't do any good to push it. If he did, Bucky might shut down.

When they were done, Rumlow stood up. He would have to put some authority in his voice in order to get Bucky to cooperate. "Time to go," he instructed. Bucky stood up reluctantly.

They were out of the house. They were in the main Hydra facility, the room calm and as warm as possible. Tons of equipment was around, including things to listen in on the phone call. And Bucky was still tense.

A lone phone was on a desk, a seat beside it. They sat him down, Rumlow watching with folded arms, and then his officers began giving Bucky instructions. Mainly, it was Rollins doing so.

"You can talk with him about whatever you want. Just don't give away any Hydra intel," was the initial instructions. Then someone else pitched in.

"Avoid Hydra if you can, at all."

"Do try to make sure he knows you're coming home."

"But don't give him an exact date."

"Don't tell him where you're at."

"Don't tell him anything that could help him figure out your location."

"Try and subtly get some intel from him if you can."

When they were done, Bucky just stared at the phone, quite pale. Seeing that he wasn't moving, Rumlow moved next to him. Bucky looked up. "He's going to try and trace the call," Rumlow informed him. "But he won't succeed, so don't worry about that. You'll have 45 minutes, as a test. But if we have to pull you out suddenly, we will. I don't anticipate it, though."

When Bucky still did nothing but stare at the phone, Rumlow nudged him. "Have fun," he encouraged. With a gulp, Bucky picked up the phone and dialed.

The phone rang, and when someone picked up, Steve's hesitant voice was heard. "Hello?"

Bucky gulped again. "Steve?"

"Bucky!" Steve had a concerned and urgent voice, and Bucky took a deep breath in. He didn't know why, but all of a sudden he started relaxing and the tension left him.  
"Hey, Steve."

"Do you know how worried I've been?" Steve practically begged. "Where are you?"

Of course that would pop up. "Can't say that."

There was hesitation. "You're... with Rumlow... aren't you?" There was almost grief in the man's voice.

"Can't say that."

An awkward silence followed, and Bucky didn't know what to say. What could he say? Fortunately, Steve saved the day. "I want you to come home. I'm begging you! I miss you!"

Tears ran down Bucky's eyes. This wasn't what he was expecting from a phone call. "Soon," he promised Steve, but even then he didn't know if he would end up coming home soon. He wanted to, but with his handler's attitude towards him lately...

He looked at his handler desperately. His eyes were full of tears suddenly, and Rumlow stared at him calmly. There was almost a pleading expression in his gaze. He knew they were listening in on the phone call, and probably the other people on Steve's end as well. There was no way that Steve wouldn't take an opportunity like this to try and pinpoint his location. 'Can I?' his eyes were staying to Rumlow.

There was 'no' answer from Rumlow, and he turned away, disappointed. No doubt Steve heard the doubt in his tone, earlier. But he did receive comfort when the disappointment crept up, and Rumlow knelt beside him, gently taking his metal hand, squeezing it in comfort.

Bucky decided to end the phone call. He wasn't sure that he could do this. But at a push from his handler to go on, he knew he had no choice. He gulped and continued talking, changing the subject. "Is Sam there?" A small smile twitched on his face as he said this. Maybe he could get on Sam's nerves, alleviate himself some by teasing the man.

Steve was hesitant. "Why would you say that?"

"Come on, Steve!" Bucky complained. "You and I both know that you wouldn't take this phone call without someone else listening in."

His handler narrowed his eyes, and that's when Bucky knew that he needed to back off.

There was more hesitation. "Are you wanting to speak to him?" was the surprising offer.

Shock came on Bucky's face. Steve was really offering?

"M-maybe?" Bucky stumbled. Rumlow tapped his wrist and Bucky looked at him. A feeling to be careful came up. Evidently his handler wasn't exactly sure about the waters that Bucky was treading.

"Oh," was Steve's reluctant voice, like he didn't want to let go of Bucky. "Okay."

There was a momentary shift, and then Sam was on the line. "Bucky?" Was Sam's gentle, but firm voice.

"Sam?" Bucky replied. At a prompting from his handler, he looked over. Rumlow was shaking his head. Evidently, his reward didn't extend to talking to anyone but Steve. "Is Steve there?"

"You're wanting to talk to Steve again?" Sam was being extremely careful with his tone and his words.

Bucky gulped. Rumlow prompted with feelings to say yes. "Yeah."

The phone shifted, and Steve was back on the line. "You okay?" was Steve's concerned voice.

"Yeah!" Bucky tried to sound confident. His handler backed off some with the feelings, and Bucky knew that the conversation was back where his handler approved. "Why wouldn't I be?"

It seemed like Steve wanted to cry on the other end. "You know I miss you," Steve begged into the phone. "Please come home. Please find a way to come home."

"You know I will soon."

"And," Steve was hesitant. "Tell Rumlow I want to talk to him. I know he's probably beside you. Tell him I want to speak with him."

Bucky looked over. Rumlow was shaking his head. "Rumlow isn't here," Bucky replied when he said this.

Steve wasn't convinced, apparently. "If he won't come to the phone, then I know that he's listening in and can get this message. I want him to know that he doesn't have to to do this. Just return Bucky unharmed. I'll let the rest go. I'm begging you, Brock! Don't do this to him! Let him come home and live a peaceful life!"

"He can't hear you," Bucky whispered into the phone, even though he knew his handler and everyone around could. Steve had such a broken voice, that Bucky couldn't help but cry.

"I want you home so badly," Steve whispered. "I don't ever want you to leave again!"

"Steve," Bucky closed his eyes. "Would you really cage me?"

"NO!" was the emphatic response. "You're already caged as it is."

"Then don't cage me more."

At this point, Brock had a displeased expression, and Bucky knew that his phone call time was over. "Steve, I've got to go."

Steve was getting desperate. "No! Please don't go!"

"I have to to come back to you!" was Bucky's wry statement, and he could tell that Steve was crying on the other end. "Bye, Steve."

He hung up the phone, and suddenly Bucky burst into tears in front of everybody. He was embarrassed, but he couldn't help it.

Rumlow held him in his arms, rocking him back and forth gently. With a nod of his head, he dismissed everybody, and they left. "Shh," he whispered to his Asset. "You're all right."

Bucky was hiccuping from his sobs. "I know there was something you wanted from this phone call. Did you get it?"

Brock nodded. "But it was also for your sake."

Bucky sobbed more.

"I know."

(Rumlow Point of View)

His Asset was put to bed shortly thereafter. He couldn't stand the pure and raw feelings coming from him. So, he had a sedative made to calm Bucky down and made him drink it. Now, Bucky was peacefully asleep from his bed.

They'd successfully used the line to tap into some of the technology in the place Steve was staying at. A piece of spyware had been placed, and now they were waiting to activate it at an opportune time. The more intelligence they could gather from Steve's place, the better. It would be vital to keeping them out of current events, especially as they moved on to the next stage of furthering Hydra's goals. They were so close.

Barnes shifted in his sleep. He mumbled softly, nonsense words. Rumlow putting a calming hand on his shoulder, and Bucky stilled in his sleep, looking peaceful for once.

He didn't know why he liked to watch Bucky sleep. Bucky didn't even know that he did that. But for Rumlow, it was calming. It was like reassurance to him that Bucky was really there, safe in his grasp. Sometimes he'd sit on the bed beside him as he watched him. It was a relief to know that Bucky wasn't in that horrid Steve's hands. No, Bucky was safer with him, even if he didn't realize it.

Bucky stirred again. He mumbled more.

Rumlow watched him peacefully. "You know, I'll take care of you forever," Rumlow muttered softly to him, gently stroking a piece of hair out of Bucky's face. Bucky relaxed more.

The sedative was working. Normally, Bucky would be more than restless. But this was keeping him calm, giving him a good night's rest.

After watching him a little bit longer, Rumlow stood up. He softly padded to the door, and after looking back, he went out and shut the door quietly behind him. The force field went up around the room, effectively keeping Bucky safe and inside.

They had their ups and downs. He knew that Bucky didn't entirely understand why he did the things he did. And, ultimately, Rumlow was protecting him from the truth. He knew that Bucky wasn't on his side.

But, as Rumlow moved through his house, he thought on the final things. They were almost done coming up with a way to keep Barnes unaware as he did the things that Hydra needed him to do. Once that was done, all they had to do was bring Bucky under, and then he wouldn't remember a thing when he came out of it. Barnes would be more peaceful coming out of it.

Hydra's players were carefully positioned. Bucky was the last one. Whether he wanted to be or not, whether he realized it or not, he was an operative.

Brock was confident that he would succeed. Pierce had taught him patience, and that patience was paying off. Pretty soon, victory would be his, and the world would belong to Hydra.

Sighing, Brock went into his room, and out of a secret compartment pulled the secret gemstone that had been Pierce's last gift to him. It had started Bucky's original bond to his original handler. Brock was confident that he had pieced together enough of it's secrets to control the world, including an unwilling population. Yes, there would have to be sacrifices, and part of the world's population would have to die. But it was necessary in order to bring the world to order. And that order could only come from Hydra.

He thought on Bucky again. What would he do with him after they succeeded? He was still very much a captive. And, truth be told, Hydra's leaders had never thought that far.

That Barnes had to live was evident. That, and none of his handlers, including himself, had ever had any intention of killing him. Barnes was just too precious for that. That, and the bond prevented it.

No, he'd just have to find a different place for Bucky in the world to come, and Barnes would have to learn his place. Bucky would fight, but in the end he wouldn't succeed. He never succeed against Hydra, let alone his handler.

Getting him to be happy in the new world, and with his position, was going to be difficult, though. In many ways, it would be easier if Bucky just gave up. Then they could focus on making him happy with his situation. But the fact that Barnes resisted caused much of the problem. He resisted treatment.

It was only a matter of time, anyways. Bucky's therapists were good. Already he showed signs of cracking and letting himself be treated. It was better this way. Maybe, in time, Barnes could learn to be cheerful. And the efficiency of Bucky's therapists were evident with others they had helped treat from trauma, including himself. They'd be able to heal Bucky's wounds.

Patiently playing out his options, Rumlow decided that perhaps it was best to start preparing Bucky for the world to come and his roll in it. He'd already promised him an education. Maybe it was time to start it, with slight modifications as it was.

Barnes had yet to choose his subjects. In fact, he'd been refusing.

Oh well. That meant Rumlow would just have to assign him some.

(Bucky Point of View)

"You're what?!" Bucky shouted in panic.

His handler looked up at him with a 'don't yell at your handler' expression. "I already told you. I promised you an education, and you're going to get one. I've delayed too much already for your sake. I gave you time to choose your subjects, and you haven't. So I'm going to assign them. You start today."

"But-" Bucky protested, and his handler glared at him. He decided to choose a different route. "I'll choose!" Bucky promised. "Give me a couple of hours to think."

Brock was stern. "No."

"Thirty minutes!" Bucky begged.

"No."

"But why not!" And Bucky was whining.

Sighing, Rumlow looked up at him. "In many ways, this is a natural punishment. I gave you time to choose, and you didn't take it. If I go back on my word, you'll never learn. You need to know that I'm serious when I say something."

"You never gave a deadline," Bucky plead.

"But I did say soon, and I expected you to choose soon. You didn't do that."

Bucky was disappointed. His face feel, and Brock reached across the breakfast table to place a comforting hand on him. "If you think about it, it's not truly a punishment. It's just a natural consequence of not taking advantage of the opportunity I gave you and expected you to take."

"I don't want to be punished!" Bucky stabbed his eggs with a fork.

"Like I said, it's not truly punishment."

"You called it punishment earlier."

Brock sighed. "It was a wrong choice of words."

"You're still forcing me to be educated."

At this point, his handler was looking annoyed. "I'm doing you a favor, you know," Brock pointed out. "You're education is sorely lacking."

Clenching his fists hard, Bucky stabbed at the eggs again without eating. "Brainwashing!" he accused, and his handler rolled his eyes.

"It's not brainwashing. It's educating. We're not going to hurt you. You're not going to be in pain." Silence lasted for a few minutes, and then Brock continued on. "Which reminds me, you haven another appointment this afternoon after your schooling."

Bucky grimaced. "Sounds fun," he was sarcastic. He wasn't looking forward to meeting with his therapists again. This time, he knew that several were meeting with him, maybe even the whole team. But why, he didn't know. It made him nervous.

Brock felt his feelings and placed his hand on his shoulder. "It's nothing to be afraid of," he reassured him.

Bucky couldn't shake the hand off of his shoulder as the bond forced him to be submissive and obedient. But he didn't like the feeling of Brock's hand on him. It wasn't comforting not after his handler had announced what was going to happen to him. Sensing this, Brock continued, "I know that you don't like therapy, but it's for the best. You need to get over those feelings, and you need help to do so."

"It's not fun," Bucky complained. "I don't like therapy."

Brock was silent for a moment. "I know," he then replied.

Breakfast continued in silence with Bucky just stabbing at his eggs. Though his handler looked at him in worry, he didn't say anything, even though he could have forced Bucky to eat, and had done so before. Evidently, Brock wasn't in a mood to correct him.

His plate was taken away after Brock ate and it was evident that Bucky wouldn't eat. "I'll escort you to your lessons," Brock stood up, the dishes undone. They were never done by him. Bucky heavily suspected that a servant came and took care of house chores.

Having no choice, Bucky stood up to walk with his handler. He was slightly shaking, but firm on his feet. He was ready to face his doom, as he thought. Therapy was never fun. And no doubt, these lessons would not be fun either.

Brock held him by the shoulder firmly. They walked out of the house and through the Hydra facility.

He was nervous. Why, he didn't know. Rumlow promised not to hurt him. So, as he entered a classroom like setting, complete with one desk in the room, a teacher's desk in front, and a chalkboard behind the teacher's desk, he couldn't help but gulp. He looked around nervously, noticing several men present, his teachers, no doubt.

Rumlow turned back to him and clapped him firmly on the shoulder. "Be good, all right?"

Bucky nodded obediently, then his handler walked out, leaving him with his teachers.

They were stern looking men, and that only added to his nerves. One of the men, who was bald, was in the teacher's chair. "Sit," he commanded firmly.

Rather than test the patience of these men, he sat obediently. He'd just gotten rewarded earlier. He didn't want to try his chances and have more of his privileges taken away. He needed to be good so that he could make it back to Steve.

Steve...

He was nervous and quiet. For a while, all was quiet. Bucky nervously glanced around, and finally, the teacher at the desk looked up after a couple of minutes. He scrutinized the Winter Soldier, and then finally got up. Walking around the desk, he stalked in front of Bucky. "I've reviewed the education you had as a child, when you were in the military, and the education you've had under Hydra. You've been found sorely lacking. Mr. Rumlow wants me to get your education up to date, and that I will."

The man paced around, and Bucky's eyes landed on the clock in the room, wondering how long he would have to do this for. "We will be catching you up on history, science, culture, languages, and other things. Some are requirements for your service to Hydra, such as updated espionage skills. You will be doing physical education, on top of it. The time you are required to spend in the gym has been deemed not enough. Plus, Mr. Rumlow wants you to learn further teamwork skills with his men here. Hey, pay attention!" The man snapped his fingers and Bucky turned back. "Also, he noted that you refused extra curricular activities, so some will be assigned to you."

"I didn't!" Bucky protested. But he stopped when the man glared at him, returning to an obedient state.

"Regardless, you didn't choose when he asked you to choose. So some will be assigned." Turning away, the man slapped a page upside down on Bucky's desk. "You will be tested to find out what you know. Then we will be going over the answers. This is a timed test for various skills. Begin."

Warily glancing at the man, Bucky turned the page over. A pencil was already on the desk, and so he nervously began to answer. He didn't know what would happen if he got too much wrong.

Some of the questions made him cringe. They were on Hydra and Hydra's relationship with the world. Though it included questions from science, history, and other things, it was the questions about Hydra's role in history that he disagreed with most.

Bucky found it hard to get through. Not only was he not always up to date on the technology that didn't pertain to his missions or Winter Soldier objective, but the implications of what he would be learning made him nervous. How would he know if Hydra was telling the truth about there own history? After all, it was just their version of events.

Some questions surprised him. They were on his role as the Winter Soldier, and on some of his past missions, which he didn't remember. Some were on the impact he had on history and the fate of the world from the actions of the Winter Soldier.

About fifteen minutes later, the test was yanked abruptly from him without his consent or control. "Times up," his stern teacher said, and Bucky leaned back, nervous.

The teacher spent the next half hour reviewing the questions, at times pursing his lips in dissatisfaction. Finally, he graded and returned the test.

Bucky chanced to look at his grade and wished he hadn't. It was a C-, not bad, but not what he had been hoping for.

His teacher was sitting at the desk, elbows rested on the table with palms clasped, looking at Bucky. He was in thought. "I see you understand the basic concepts, still that you were introduced to in the 1940's. That's fine and all that. But technology has advanced significantly, and while you're familiar with what you were originally taught by Hydra, there are still gaps in your education. That, and your knowledge of Hydra history, even your own role in things, is sorely lacking. Have you never been taught your mission in Hydra?"

Bucky didn't know what to answer. He was careful. "I... was not always informed... It was mainly missions."

The teacher was silent for a minute, but then he nodded. "I see." He seemed to sense that Bucky was nervous of potential brainwashing. He sat back. "You have nothing to be afraid of," he reassured Bucky. "We're not going to hurt you. This is just an education."

Looking back cautiously, Bucky replied, "But everything about this, you're trying to indoctrinate me into Hydra."

The teacher shrugged. "Not really. What you believe is up to you. We're giving you a well rounded education. Not everything is grounded in history. But, yes, we will be opening your view to Hydra's perspective. You already had one perspective when you were out in the world. Doesn't it seem fair to get the opposite side of the story?"

"How do I know that Hydra will even tell me the truth?" Bucky decided to get a little bold.

Raising one eyebrow, his teacher answered, "You think Hydra would lie about it's own history? What about the fact that you'll be looking at original records and copies of original records?"

"Even basic presentations can be edited in such a way to be misleading," he quietly replied.

"And as I said," the teacher emphasized. "You can believe what you want to believe. We're not forcing you to believe in anything. We're just giving you a different perspective, the opposite perspective. That way you'll be well rounded."

"But I can still research the opposite perspective from yours?" Bucky wanted to make sure.

"On your own time," his teacher shrugged. Bucky wasn't sure whether or not Rumlow would allow that, since he could limit his movements, including on whether or not he could go to the local library. He simply didn't know what his handler would and wouldn't allow.

His teacher continued observing him. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Thinking carefully, Bucky asked, "How long and how often do I have schooling?"

There was a pause of thought before his teacher answered. "Three days a week for four hours, as long as you're in Hydra. The schedule will vary, and even in a day, it may be split, especially if you have therapy in the middle of the day."

"This includes everything?" Bucky clarified. "Spy training? Physical education? Whatever else you have planned for me?"

The teacher nodded.

At this point, one of the other men turned to Bucky. "Mr. McGrath is in charge of the informative part of your education. This includes lay education, such as history, science, technology, and other things. I'm in charge of the physical aspects of your education, from spy training, espionage, and other physical education. Mr. Don, over there, is in charge of the teamwork side of your education."

Now Bucky knew the name of two of the men in the room. Mr. McGrath must have been over the other teachers. Bucky wondered if he was a psychologist. The only name left to learn was the man who would be upgrading his espionage education.

Mr. McGrath continued to observe Bucky. "You seem rather nervous," he brought up.

"Wouldn't you be if you were in my shoes?" Bucky pointed out.

The teacher looked thoughtful. Then, after a few minutes, he got up.

"Well start with history."

(Some time has passed)

Bucky was shaking by the time Rumlow picked him up. It wasn't because they were mean to him, quite the contrary. It was the content he had learned and the homework he had been given. While it hadn't been given in a brainwashing way, or at least the manner Bucky had remembered as brainwashing, learning about Hydra's history from their perspective had been nerve wracking.

Rumlow immediately wrapped him in a hug when he saw him, having sensed his feelings. "It's going to be all right," he reassured Bucky.

Bucky gulped, clutching his textbooks and homework. "Therapy is next," Rumlow informed him softly, and let him go.

He was immediately escorted through the Hydra facility, and to the familiar room of his therapist. James was waiting for him, motioning him further inside. Once Bucky sat down, placing his homework and textbook beside himself on the couch, slightly nervous, his handler had a few words with his therapist. Then the man left.

James shut the door, taking his usual place in front of him. He flipped open Bucky's chart. "I see you have an appointment scheduled with Charles next week, probably to go over your medications since they had to back you off. How have you been feeling? Have you noticed any side effects?"

Shuddering, Buck shook his head. His therapist seemed in thought. "You're remarkably quiet today."

"It was a long day today," Bucky whispered, looking down.

His therapist crossed his legs, leaning back some. "Why don't we talk about it?"

Bucky shrugged. He wasn't sure what to say. "What is there to say about it?"

"Your emotions, your feelings."

"I was put in school and I didn't have any say," Bucky summed it up.

James jotted a few notes down, no doubt recording his emotions. "You keep repeating that during our sessions, that you don't have any say."

"Because I don't," Bucky glared. "Everything is decided for me."

"Which clearly bothers you," James noted. "You don't like to be taken care of, I see."

"Not by Hydra."

"How about by Steve?"

Clenching his fists, Bucky looked away. "I don't like to be taken care of by anybody," he confessed.

"Because you don't feel safe?" James pried.

"Because it means I'm not free," Bucky replied.

"Freedom," James echoed, noting it down. "That's another thing that keeps popping up in our sessions."

"It's a sore issue," Bucky admitted.

To his surprise, James was silent for a few minutes, almost considering. "I'll admit, we've been debating hypnotherapy for you for a while. Even your handler wonders if it might help you, might help you cope."

His gut clenched. He didn't like the thought of going under with these people, or with anyone, really. But especially not these people. "Are there any other options?" Bucky tried to find a way around.

James looked at him in compassion. "You don't like the thought of that?"

"I don't want Hydra in my head," Bucky was firm.

James sighed. "Dr. Plouff didn't seem to think regular hypnotherapy would be progressive with you, but even _**he**_ agreed that our modified form of hypnotherapy, patent of Hydra, might be worth a shot trying."

"I'm _**not**_ doing any thing that doctor says!" Bucky gritted his teeth.

"You're still angry at him?" James uncrossed his legs, staring intently at him. Looking away in anger, Bucky didn't answer. The man waited, but when Bucky didn't respond, he moved on. "Luna would be in charge of the hypnotherapy. She agrees it's for the best. Also, she wants to do some sensory deprivation with you. She thinks it might help, the Hydra version. It's quite a bit more effective than what you'll find out in the world."

Bucky shook his head. "No."

"Then I don't suppose it will help that your handler has already signed off on this? It's been scheduled. Your first one is tomorrow. We're just informing you."

"Everything is always done without my consent!" Bucky mourned.

James had compassion on his face. "It's for the best. You're so stuck that we need to give you a push in life, get you unstuck."

"I never had any choice to begin with!" Bucky was in mourning.

"You can't function," James pointed out. "We know what we have works. It's time for you to start living life."

Soft tears went down Bucky's face, and he looked away. "On the bright side you get to skip school tomorrow. It will probably take all day. You'll get the day after off as well."

It was too much to handler. Bucky bolted out of the office, well aware that his therapy was still in session, and that he hadn't been given permission to leave. While he couldn't leave Hydra, still unable to, he ran and ran and ran. He lost track of where he was going, completely unaware of his surroundings.

Finally, he reached an alley behind a building and just collapsed, crying. He curled up next to the wall and let his heart out.

For how long he was like this, how long he was there for, he didn't know. Finally, he heard some footsteps, and he looked up to see Jack staring down at him in compassion. The man then walked over and sat beside him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

The tear streaks on Bucky's face were obvious. "Did you know?" he demanded.

"About what?" Rollins turned to him.

"About the hypnotherapy and sensory deprivation."

Rollins was hesitant. "You're handler thought it was best to have your therapist break it to you, rather than him. He thought you might handle it better, being able to process your emotions. Clearly he was wrong. Or, you would have handled it worse from him."

Bucky was back to crying, but he was silent this time. He rested his head on his knees. "No, no, no!" his voice wavered. "It's all falling apart!" Suddenly, his sobbed softly. Jack put his arm around his shoulders.

He couldn't help it. He didn't know why he did it, but he was desperate for comfort. Bucky leaned into the affection, crying on Jack's shoulders.

Jack gently hushed him. "It's not bad, you know," he murmured softly. "You won't be in pain or anything, I assure you. In fact, that's why we're doing this - to get you out of pain."

"I don't want it!" Bucky moaned.

"You'd rather be in pain?" Jack questioned. "Because that's what's happening right now. What if you didn't have to experience these emotions?"

"I don't want it!" Bucky emphasized, crying.

Jack was silent after that, being unable to convince him. He just held him.

The world went dark.

(The next day)

Bucky was in cotton scrubs, though why, he didn't know. He looked around the room he had been placed in nervously. There was a one way glass window, and he could sense his handler on the other side. The room he was in had a couch, medical equipment to monitor his vitals, and a medical gurney.

Luna was setting things up by the medical gurney. Evidently, there were going to give him a slight sedative before they started the procedure and hypnotized him. Meanwhile, Bucky paced around the room nervously. While it wasn't mind wiping, an ECT, or a dreaded lobotomy, he was still nervous. Because of this, his handler sent him feelings of comfort to calm his anxiety down some, and amazingly, Bucky calmed down slightly.

There were guards in the room. They had weapons. Apparently, no one was sure if Bucky was going to loose it before they could treat him. While it made him wary and nervous, at the same time, he took it as an indication to him to keep in line. He had no choice in the matter, period. It was happening regardless. There would be no running away this time, like he ran out of his therapy session.

The amount of force he felt on himself was enormous. When Luna motioned him over, he sighed, got off the couch, and lay on the gurney, being obedient. He was strapped in, like a guinea pig, in his opinion.

He had begged his handler to let him return to Steve after the procedure if he was good. His handler hadn't been to pleased with the request. He had yet to hear back. He could only hope that if he was good, that answer would turn into a yes. That was why he was being obedient. He wanted to see Steve again. He wanted out of the Hydra facility, out of Hydra.

Luna was calm around him. She gently put the IV in, and then, placing a soft hand on his shoulder, asked, "Are you ready?" Bucky gulped and nodded. He strained against the restraints slightly, trying to get comfortable.

With one last glance at the glass, where his handler was, Bucky sighed. Luna brought his focus to her, and she brought out a light. "Listen to my voice," she ordered softly. "On the count of three, you will be going deeper. One... Two... Three-"

Darkness.

(Bucky Point of View)

He was drowsy. His eyes were not clear as he woke up. But, slowly, the fuzziness went away.

His handler was seated in front of him, looking at him closely with concern. Bucky gasped, tried to sit, up, and his handler gently pushed him back down to his bed.

His bed!

Bucky looked around. He was in his room at his handler's house. Rumlow observed him silently.

Looking at the clock, Bucky was confused. He wasn't sure for how long he was out for. He looked at Brock expectantly.

Sensing his question, Brock replied, "It's all over."

"All... over?" Bucky questioned. He felt strangely calm. The more he woke up, the better he realized that he felt. "The... sensory deprivation?"

"Completely done," Brock confirmed. "Now, do you feel scared? Do you feel emotional?"

Bucky paused to think on this. With a sudden jolt, he realized he was not. He was starting to feel emotionally better. "No," he admitted with surprise.

Brock seemed satisfied. "See! There's nothing to be afraid of!"

He felt comfortable around his handler. Before, he might have been hesitant to ask, but now he wasn't. "Can I go back to Steve? Please? I was good." He was confident in his asking, something he'd never felt before. He was also very careful not to ask if he could go home. Brock wouldn't like that, and would be less likely to concede. Nonetheless, he could tell his handler knew that he had been thinking it.

Brock was hesitant, but he sighed. "Very well," he conceded. "You were good after all. It's time for you to be rewarded."

"Yes!" Bucky danced around in his bed, seated.

"That said," Brock warned. "I want you to get some rest first. We'll talk, and then you may head back."

Being obedient, Bucky lay down, and Brock put the blankets back over him. Gently touching his cheek, Brock murmured, "Sleep well."

Bucky watched his handler exit. Then, when the man had completely exited, and the force field was up, Bucky closed his eyes, starting to fall asleep again.

Bucky was in peace.

(A little while later)

He and his handler were talking. Bucky was standing at attention right in front of his handler. "You will need to do your homework when you come back."

"I know," Bucky confirmed, completely at ease.

Rumlow, who was seated at the dinner table, Bucky standing in front of him, continued, "I hope you learned your lesson this time. I don't like punishing you. I want you to enjoy your privileges."

"I know," Bucky thought hard, sincere. "I'm working on obedience."

"That you should," Rumlow pointed at him. "And, while you're back at Steve's, I want you to gather some intel."

Bucky was hesitant, but he nodded obediently. He didn't like doing it, but he had to be obedient. He had his duty. There was nothing he could do to change that.

Brock didn't have anymore to say to him, so he dismissed him. Bucky exited, heading straight for the Hydra facility. Then, in excitement, he headed to the locker room, changed his clothes to his street clothes, and was pleased when the Hydra personnel took him aboard a boat.

He stayed below deck the whole time, not being able to see where they were going. It was night time by the time they let him off, and Bucky stepped onto a forested beach, on an island, or so he presumed.

Hearing the boat leaving, he chanced a glance back, and saw the ship disappear into the distance. Then he headed off, trying to find Steve. That must be why they let him here, because they knew that Steve was here.

He was careful not to leave tracks behind. The last thing they needed was knowing exactly where he stepped foot on the island.

His heart beat hard. He was going to see Steve!

He continued forward.

(Rumlow Point of View)

Brock and Jack were sitting side by side. "Are you pleased with how things turned out?" Jack asked him.

Brock nodded, completely at ease for once. "He's a lot calmer. Plus, he doesn't seem to be aware that he did a mission, let alone the lost time. Plus, he got treatment at the same time. It seems to be working."

"It seems to be working, tacking something extra alongside the treatment," Jack mused. The man was in thought. "And perhaps it's for the best. The less he suspects, the better. Plus, it will give him emotional healing."

"Yes," Rumlow was pleased. The less he was affected, the better. Then he could truly be an effective leader of Hydra. The last thing he needed was to be affected by his Asset's emotions. But, that was what was happening.

Rumlow sighed, staring out the window of his home.

Perhaps a break would do Bucky and him good.

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky looked around him. His reunion with Steve had been met with tears on both sides. He hadn't realized how much he really missed his best friend. Perhaps he had been suppressing those emotions in order to cope.

T'Challa and Steve were talking a little ways away. He was in a secure room right now, only to be expected. They didn't know if he was brainwashed or not. Their emotions were high, and they were highly concerned, he could tell.

Shuri, who must have arrived at some point, was peaking through the glass window. She had a concerned frown on her face as she looked at him. Bucky couldn't look at her, feeling slightly ashamed. He couldn't even bear to attempt to listen to the conversation Steve and T'Challa were having.

Finally, his best friend and the king came in. They looked at each other, and then both sat on the couch opposite Bucky, staring at him intently.

Steve was at a loss for words. But, he could tell that his best friend wanted nothing more than to put a hand on his shoulder, to comfort him.

"Where have you been?" T'Challa asked, breaking the silence.

Bucky looked away. He wasn't sure how to answer anything. What more could he say?

"Bucky?" Steve prompted, and Bucky looked away more.

"You know," he murmured slightly to his best friend and the king. Both of them exchanged looks. It wasn't a pleasant one.

Steve looked like his eyes were full of tears. T'Challa looked in deep thought, worried. "I hate that they control you," Steve was close to crying. He reached out to Bucky. "We're trying, Bucky. We really are! We're going to get you out of this!"

But the thing was, Bucky didn't know that he felt uncomfortable with Rumlow anymore. Yeah, the man was forcing him to go to Hydra. But, maybe this could be to his advantage. Maybe, he could _**convince**_ Rumlow to be kind and caring.

Bucky looked up. "It's for the best," he proposed.

Steve shook his head. "No it's not!" He was trembling with grief. "Bucky! I want you back home! And I want you home safe! As long as your being threatened, you're not safe!"

Bucky shook his head. "I'm not being threatened!"

"Being controlled is being threatened!"

"No!" Bucky was in denial. "It's not like that at all! He takes my feelings into account!"

"He takes your feelings into account when he's forcing you to do things?"

"He does!" Bucky tried to convince Steve.

T'Challa seemed deep in thought, but he interrupted the conversation just then. "Do you **like** killing people?"

"NO!" Bucky protested.

T'Challa was calm where Steve was not. He looked Bucky directly in the eyes. "He's forcing you to kill people. If you don't like killing people, then why do you liked being forced?"

Bucky didn't understand. It was only treacherous Hydra that Bucky had killed so far under Rumlow's rule. He shook his head. It was hard to explain. But, T'Challa wasn't ready to give up the topic. "We're willing to help you find your way out of this control he has you under. However, you should know. He may be forcing you to do things, but if you're don't want to be released from his control, then you're in essence consenting to his deeds, despite the control he has over you."

Bucky shook his head. "I don't want to kill people!" he expressed.

"Then let us help you," T'Challa was firm. Bucky put his head in his hands in distress. "I know you're being controlled. I know you don't see a way out of these things. But, here is reality. You're a powerful assassin that he can use to harm others. We can't let him control you. I know you see no way out of this, but we have to at least try, or we stand condemned."

As Bucky considered, not sure what he felt about that, his emotions were plain on his face.

Once more, T'Challa was firm with him. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to consider the fact that you have a trauma bond with Rumlow. Going to see him isn't healthy for you."

Bucky shook his head. "I don't have a trauma bond!" In reality, it was something different.

Breathing deeply, T'Challa sighed. His hands were to his head. "The most intel we've been able to gather is that you have some sort of connection to him. That's what Wanda saw. She knows it connects the two of you physically and emotionally. But, just because you're attached to him in that way, doesn't mean that a trauma bond doesn't exist to him. That can exist as well."

Shaking, Bucky was in denial. 'No, it can't be!' He wasn't ready to accept the fact that maybe Rumlow had a little more control over him than he desired. His mind didn't even want to consider the possibility. But even if it was the case, could it be both ways? After all, Rumlow seemed attached to him as well.

Steve put his arm around his shoulder. "We'll find our way through this," he promised his friend. "We always do."

He was in deep thought. His best friend was quiet and let him think through things.

But, really? A trauma bond to Rumlow? He felt so calm when he was around him!

What's more, he didn't really want to leave him. He knew that he and Rumlow needed each other. They _**relied**_ on each other.

Looking up, he protested, "Let me work with him! I can convince him to be good!"

At this point, Steve and T'Challa were having a mental conversation, almost. There was hesitance on both of their faces, like they weren't sure how to approach a particular issue with Bucky.

Bucky could tell that the conversation went something like this: 'You tell him.' 'No, you do it.'

However, T'Challa was the king, so it was only a matter of time before he won. Steve sighed and then turned to Bucky. 'All right!' was on his face towards T'Challa. "Bucky," he was careful. Bucky turned cautiously towards his friend. Steve hesitated and then continued. "Rumlow doesn't get a second chance."

Bucky froze. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. He shook his head. "I can convince him!" he tried to convince Steve.

Steve shook his head. "He's done too much. He's killed a lot of people."

"So have I!" Bucky protested.

"And, it wasn't your fault. You didn't choose to do those things. However, he did. You can't be held responsible for what your hands did. You didn't know what you were doing. But Rumlow knew _**exactly**_ what he was doing. He will be held responsible."

A horrified look was on Bucky's face. Were they going to kill him? But if they did, he would die as well.

"No!" he protested, getting up, pacing in agitation. "You don't understand! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Rumlow killed people," Steve continued, trying to reason with Bucky. "He willingly joined a terrorist organization. He willingly tortured you. He willingly _**kidnapped**_ you. He willing held you captive. His case isn't going to be good before a court of law. Chances are, he'll be condemned to death."

Bucky turned around. "No!" he shook his head in denial. 'Would you really kill me too?' "NO!" he shouted and he was on the floor in tears.

Bucky couldn't explain the shift in him, but he knew, in that moment, Rumlow had to win.

(Steve Point of View)

Bucky was refusing to see any of them. After the conversation, he'd immediately rushed to his room and locked himself in. As it was, even Steve couldn't see him.

Steve had just closed the door to his room when he saw T'Challa. "That went well," he sarcastically told the king.

T'Challa had his arms folded. "Politics are going to be hard. As much as I hate it, he's going to be caught in the middle of things."

"What if we can't convince him?" Steve was worried, shaking his head hard. His head hurt. It made him nauseous that his best friend was so attached to the one that hurt him.

"There is only so much we can do," T'Challa cautioned him. He moved suddenly, hands down, leading Steve away from the door. "We've been reviewing US law. Bucky can't legally be held accountable for anything. He can't be charged with anything either. Unfortunately, that's where the good news ends. The bad news is that he can end up in an asylum, especially with the way his behavior has been."

"Which isn't good for him," Steve realized. It frustrated him that people would only view Bucky and others in need in terms of threats instead of seeing them as they really were.

T'Challa nodded in agreement. "Which leads me to my other alternative. Of course, as long as the two of you stay in Wakanda, as long as, they can't get to him. We don't have such things as asylums. And, they can demand Bucky all they want, but the problem is that he's a citizen here as well. We don't have to turn him over."

"It also means we can never go back," Steve was thoughtful. "But it's probably for the best. The truth is, I no longer recognize the country I used to serve. A start over sounds good."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like," T'Challa offered. "I also know that the two of you love to travel. I've been negotiating with countries, and believe it or not, there are some that are at odds with the US, including how they've handled various things. A lot of them were anti Accords. My father supported them in his anger, but I believe, had he seen what it truly was, and had his mind been clear, he would never have supported them."

There was silence between the two of them as it was still an awkward topic, at least for Steve. "I am sorry about what happened," he apologized.

T'Challa shook his head. "I've told you not to apologize anymore. What's done is done."

Steve nodded. Another silence followed.

It was T'Challa who broke the silence. "You may be surprised to know that top on the list is Romania. They didn't support the Accords to begin with, and they especially didn't appreciate the intrusion into their country, even if they were after a 'criminal'."

Steve bobbed his head. Romania was a good option. He'd heard nothing but good things about it from his best friends. While he knew there was a lot of issues that the people faced, even from their government, Bucky had seemed to like the culture. In fact, it appeared that Bucky had some fond memories from being in Romania, minus the whole German hit team trying to kill him, of course.

Part of Steve wondered what it would be like to live there. That said, he was quite comfortable in Romania.

"Australia and Mongolia are another two. There are many more, but I thought that these three might be the top two that at least the two of you would like to vacation at. They also had the least amount of restrictions when I asked about it. Ultimately, they want to see Bucky in a better place before they let him come in, so we'll need to work with Bucky mentally and physically before he'll be ready to travel."

"Which brings us back to the question: How do we get through to him?"

"That is a good question," T'Challa was thoughtful. "The only thing I can think of is to continue spying on our enemies. While we haven't been able to get into Hydra directly, we've been able to get into some organizations that work with Hydra. One of them is planning a trip, something about a deal with Hydra. I've asked her to see if she can use the time to try to gather some information about Bucky himself. We need more information."

"They're going to be in a Hydra facility?" Steve questioned.

T'Challa nodded. "And with lucky, we'll have some more information really soon."

"Sounds risky," Steve was worried. He was also touched that they were doing this for him and Bucky.

"You and I both know that it's a necessity," T'Challa cautioned, but Steve could also tell that T'Challa was worried as well.

"I just feel like we could end up walking into a situation that gets very dangerous," Steve had his hand to his chin, thinking hard.

"I know."

(Rumlow Point of View)

Rumlow was sitting in his office when someone knocked on his door. "Come in," he summoned.

Jack Rollins came in. "You ready?" he asked.

Rumlow shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be," he admitted.

Rollins sighed in encouragement.

"Time to become a super soldier, then."

 **Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11: Super Soldier

**I don't own Captain America.**

Chapter Eleven: Super Soldier

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky felt guilty for ignoring Steve. But he couldn't help it. The plan they had would essentially kill him. Why couldn't they just trust him?

Sighing, laying on his bed, he began humming softly to himself, an attempt to comfort himself. He wasn't going to let a little bit of an argument hold him back from spending some quality time with Steve. But first, he needed to calm down some.

When he was finally ready, he opened the door and came out. He frowned when he saw the guards there. He knew they were there, he had heard him, but he was still disappointed. 'That's okay,' he thought to himself. 'I'm not going to let it bother me.'

Walking out, he was well aware as he was followed by the Wakandan guards. But he ignored them the best that he could. When he finally found Steve, looking a little down trodden, sitting on a couch, he went and sat beside him. "Hey, Steve," he greeted softly.

Steve looked up and smiled. He could tell that it touched the man that he was talking to him. Steve must have been more attached to him than he realized. But there was also a bit of sadness in his eyes. Bucky wanted nothing more than to take that sadness away from him.

"You okay?" Steve asked him.

Bucky shrugged. "As good as I'll be."

Steve seemed to get the hint. He just wanted to spend some time together, because he didn't know when he would be called back.

For a while they sat in silence. Then, out of the blue, Steve asked, "Why does it bother you so much, Brock getting justice?"

Bucky wasn't sure how to answer. He looked up, thought on the best solution, then replied, "You don't know everything about how I'm connected to him." He left it at that.

Steve seemed to be in deep thought. As it was, Bucky was lucky that he was even allowed to say that much. He didn't want to push it with Brock and risk getting called back sooner.

As Bucky watched Steve think, he nudged his friend a little. "Hey! I'm here!" he softly spoke. Steve looked up, well aware that Bucky needed him. Bucky smiled. "You know, I missed you."

Steve was a little sad again. "I missed you too," his voice was filled with emotion.

Bucky didn't know what to do. He couldn't promise anything, let alone that he would be there for very long. But he knew that Steve needed him. And he needed Steve. He could only hope that Brock would let him have this much.

For a while there was silence. But then, out of the blue, Steve enveloped him in a big, crushing hug, and started crying. "Please don't leave me!" Steve was begging. "You don't know how hard it is without you! You don't know how without life I feel without you!"

Bucky was shocked. He didn't know what to say. But he did hold him tightly back. Things were just so different than they used to be. "I think you're a little depressed," he whispered to his best friend.

Steve pulled back, tears in his eyes. "It's just so hard to see you go through difficult things. I wish I could ease your pain."

Now there were tears in Bucky's eyes. "Steve," his voice was soft. "This is my burden, and my burden to bear alone. You don't need to try to bear it for me."

"But I want to!" Steve protested. "I don't want you to be alone!"

"If you want to help me," a sad smile was on Bucky's face. "Then please, bring me joy while I'm here with you, and whenever I'm here with you. Don't you understand, Stevie? I just want to spend some time with you, wind down a little, so to speak. I need to be able to relax when I'm with you, not be questioned about where I've been! I just want to spend some time with you, as a brother."

This was visually hard on Steve's face. There was a protectiveness for him there, in his countenance. Bucky could tell that this went against Steve's nature. "Steve," he encouraged more. "This would be more helpful than anything. It's what I want. I'm tired of the fighting between us."

Steve's face fell. He could tell that this was the hardest battle that Steve had ever fought. "Okay," he finally gave in, though Bucky wasn't sure whether or not Steve would be able to fulfill this. "It's just, you're telling me to give up on your freedom."

"That's not what I need right now," Bucky explained. "I need to be cheered up. I don't want to be sad all the time."

Steve wiped his face of the tears. "I know," he whispered. "I'm still fighting for you, you know."

Bucky grimaced. But then again, could he really expect anything different? None the less, he didn't say anything more. He didn't want another argument to start with his best friend.

They sat together for some time. Bucky let out a sigh. He was at peace. He didn't know what it was that Rumlow and his men had done, but he'd felt a shift, a calming of sorts in his emotions. Maybe the man was right. Could it be that some of the things he was going through was due to depression?

Leaning against Steve, he whispered, "What would you do if you could go back in time?"

Steve's eyes were full of tears as he answered,

"I would save you."

(Rumlow Point of View)

Brock Rumlow had just come out of his meeting with the heads of Hydra. He was discussing with them the possible negotiations between them and some gangs in Southeast Asia. While he wasn't too fond of the gangs, at the same time, he recognized that some mutual trading could further Hydra's goals. That, and he was fairly certain he could manipulate them to fulfill Hydra's plans.

Another thing on the table was the intel he was able to get from Bucky during his stay with Steve Rogers and the others. Bucky was grudgingly obedient, none the less, the information they had gleaned from a virus carefully inserted in the Avengers database had been useful. Combined with Bucky's continued reports, they had learned some valuable intel that allowed them to adjust their course and how they responded to Wakanda and the Avengers.

He was currently heading to his appointment to become a supersoldier. Jack was beside him, and the man could tell he was somewhat nervous. And because he was heading to his appointment, he'd arranged with the heads of Hydra to take over and monitor things for a few hours while he prepared and went through the procedure.

They had him dress in some comfortable scrubs before they started the procedure. Then, he was taken by the medics into a room with the bed where he would receive the serum via IV. It was a small room, and a mini table for medical instruments lined with disposable paper. A light was over a bed with a thin white sheet on it, and a thin white blanket.

Jack Rollins was with him. "You nervous?" he asked his leader.

Brock chuckled, looking at the thin blanket on the white bed that had wheels on it. "No," he lied, and hopped on the bed.

Breathing deeply to calm himself, the doctors came in, the main one a bald headed man. He had a syringe in his hand. "This is something that might make the procedure a little easier."

Brock nodded and the man stepped forward, injecting it into his right arm. "As long as it doesn't interfere with the process."

"I'm afraid it will still hurt quite a bit, though," the man warned him.

Doing his best to act brave, Brock shrugged. "If the outcome is worth it, then I'll be fine."

They hooked him up to an IV, and then the bald doctor asked while Jack Rollins looked quite a bit worried, knowing he would go through the procedure as well, "You ready?" He seemed nervous the more he watched, knowing that he was one of a handful that would be given this honor as well.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Rumlow confirmed.

The serum was put through the IV.

Pain hit Rumlow.

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky was screaming, thrashing on the floor. He was vaguely aware of Steve kneeling next to him, holding Bucky. "Are you all right?" he barely heard his best friend say.

His mind was fuzzy. He didn't know where he was at. All he knew was pain as he thrashed in agony.

"Quick! A doctor!" a familiar voice of a man whom he couldn't see called out, the man who was holding him, as he continued to cry in pain.

Footsteps came, but at that moment, he wasn't aware anymore.

All he knew was pain.

(Steve Point of View)

Steve was so worried as the doctors rushed in. His best friend, who was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, ready to go out fishing with him (though they had to have a Wakandan escort to make sure Bucky didn't run away), was now thrashing on the floor. It was upsetting seeing him like this, especially since they were getting ready to distract him with something fun. He needed fun.

He was holding Bucky, but at this point, the doctors had him put him on the bed in the room they were in.

The poor man was sweating, and the doctors dabbed at the sweat on his forehead.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked desperately.

The doctors shook their heads. "We don't know." They turned to him, asking for permission. "We'd like to run some scans to see what's wrong."

Steve gave his permission instantly. Then, they were off, Bucky on a gurney, screaming and thrashing the whole way.

About halfway to the infirmary, Shuri and T'Challa ran up, worried when they saw Bucky's state. "What's wrong?" T'Challa asked the doctors.

The doctors shook their heads. "We don't know."

"He's in a tremendous amount of pain," an agonized look was on Steve's face.

There was silence. But, Bucky calmed down and moaned some on the table.

They scanned him. The doctors were puzzled and shook their heads. There was nothing to be seen! At this point, they were worried. "I'm sorry," one of the female doctors turned to him, puzzled and worried. "There is no logical reason why this should be happening."

Steve didn't know what to do. He was devastated. Not only did they not have an answer, but Bucky was in agony.

The doctors waited for him to contain his emotions. "We can sedate him, though," they promised.

Steve nodded. It was for the best.

Bucky was hooked up to an IV, Steve holding him down because of his thrashing. However, when they tried to sedate him, the medication didn't seem to have any effect.

Grieved, Steve waited by Bucky's side.

Bucky continued to moan.

(Some time later)

(Bucky Point of View)

Bucky groaned. He had the world's worst headache, but he was pretty sure he knew what had happened. Rumlow had become a super soldier. He could feel it in his bones.

His eyes were still closed, and he heard a rustling beside him. He was pretty sure he knew who it was, and he was grateful for Steve's presence. Groaning some, he felt a soft hand pressed to his temples as his forehead was dabbed.

"Bucky?" Steve's soft voice said. But it hurt worse than anything.

He tried to form some words, eyes still closed. He could feel the sheets of the bed covering him lightly. "S-Steve?" he slurred slightly.

Finally, he forced his eyes open, but they wouldn't really focus. He was in the infirmary, and he was hooked up to an IV. He was still in his jeans and t-shirt. Steve was sitting next to him, a worried look on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked his friend.

Bucky didn't know what to say. What could he say when any mention of what had happened could spoil that he knew something. And then there would be questions asked. So, he looked down, picking at the sheets with his metal arm, not really wanting to meet Steve's eyes.

But Steve was immediately more concerned. "Bucky?" he was urgent, and used his hands to make Bucky look up at him.

Bucky's eyes were filled with sorrow, no matter how much he tried to remain emotionless. "Oh, Bucky!" Steve exclaimed, and embraced him in a full hug.

It was shocking, and Bucky trembled. Then he leaned into the hug, a soft sob breaking through. "I-I'm all right, Steve," he whispered.

Steve was still holding him. "No, you're not," he murmured softly. "But we're going to make sure you're okay."

"I don't really want to talk about it," Bucky warned.

Steve pulled back and nodded his head, wiping a lone tear. "I know. I figured you wouldn't. But that doesn't mean we aren't fighting for you."

"Steve," Bucky was now exasperated. He had already accepted his fate and knew that there was no way out. He was bound to Rumlow. And Rumlow could control him. "You're pointlessly trying too hard. I just want to have a normal experience."

"Before you're taken back, you mean?" Steve was perceptive.

Bucky froze for a minute, but then he relaxed again, nodding. "Yeah."

Steve nodded again. "It's understandable." That said, he could see how hard it was on Steve.

He looked down at the crook of his right arm then up, eyeing the IV. "Can I get off of this now?" he asked, a little too timidly. He cracked a small smile. "I don't want to drag an IV as I go fishing."

Steve seemed torn, almost like he didn't want to take him fishing anymore. "Um," he looked around, and the pressed a pager like thing, to summon the doctors. "Are you sure you want to go fishing?"

"Yeah," Barnes tried to be lighthearted. "What's to stop two old guys from doing what old guys usually do?"

Steve chuckled at that, despite that, Bucky knew he'd seen right through him and his real motive, to move away from the uncomfortable conversations to come. "You know, fishing isn't just for old guys. Young guys do it too. And women."

Bucky smiled. "Can we go?"

Just then, they heard the footsteps. After about a minute, the doctors walked in. A woman smiled at him. "Are you feeling better?" But Bucky could tell that she was also analyzing him and his behavior.

Bucky wiggled uncomfortably, not liking the attention. "Yeah," was his stiff answer.

She seemed unsure. None the less, she moved up, and with a sigh, removed the IV.

Bucky was grateful, and he stood up. He knew they were going to discuss this with him later. But for now, the more delays, the better.

The woman nodded at Steve before leaving, and they exchanged a look. It made Bucky uncomfortable. The doctor and Steve seemed to be in agreement about something, and Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was.

Steve stood up. "Ready?" he encouraged.

"Yeah."

"Good," was the smile.

Bucky left the room.

(Rumlow Point of View)

He was impressed with his new body. Not only did he notice the speed when he ran, but the pure strength that coursed through him made him feel good. 'So, this is what Bucky and Steve Rogers feel like,' he thought to himself.

He looked over at his gym partner who was lifting weights, Jack Rollins, who had recently become a super soldier himself right after he did. 'Granted, that won't replace Barnes' special skills,' he thought to himself, knowing how much Bucky was still valued and needed. Plus, Jack couldn't get the close connections to the Avengers like Bucky could.

Setting the immense dumbbell on the rack, he sighed and got off the bench. Jack Rollins looked over at him. "Quitting already?" he teased. "Or is it a girl you want to call?"

Rumlow scowled. Ever since Jack Rollins had figured things out there, he'd been getting nothing but jabs from the guy. "None of your business," he snapped. But, he was also warm hearted.

He headed out the door. There was work to do before the night was over.

Taking a walk down the streets of the Hydra city, he sighed. There weren't a lot of people out, and that was just the way he wanted. He could think on his way to his office. He didn't like working long nights, but it was necessary. There were some vital decisions he had to make, and the truth is, he didn't know what to decide. 'Did you feel this way, Pierce?' he thought in his mind, thinking about his former superior. He sighed.

When he reached his office, which was in a skyscraper, the building was dark. But, taking out his card, he let the a white box scan it. The clear sliding doors opened, and the lights to the building came on. Then he entered.

His office was on the top of the building. He hummed as the elevator door opened. Stepping out, he went to the end of a wide corridor, and he opened the doors to his special office.

Inside was an elaborate desk, with paperwork sitting on it. He sighed. It was now that he needed to make the decision. He couldn't wait any longer.

That Hydra couldn't give the gangs anything valuable, especially technological, he knew. But, he also knew that they had some vital information that he needed, things his spies couldn't quite seem to get. They seemed to know about the mysterious people who had attacked him while he was bringing Bucky to Hydra. Every time his spies had tried to found out about them, they had ended up dead. And these people could pose serious threats to Hydra.

They had to be dealt with. Then, there was the fact that the gangs owned some satellites that he feared could interfere with Hydra's own. And they had land that Hydra wanted, Hydra **_needed_** in order to accomplish it's goals. These were strategic points. So, how to negotiate for it without giving up precious things that Hydra owned?

The paper in front of Rumlow listed serious demands that one of the gangs expected met if they were going to do business. The only thing, was, that he couldn't give it. So, the question was, should he manipulate another gang in order that this particular gang would give him what he desired by being threatened by a potential deal with another gang? Or, should he counter offer?

He frowned. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to try counter offering first. Then, if push came to shove, he could get another gang involved. If all proved wrong, he could always go with another gang. However, he was loosing vital opportunities.

Putting some thought in, Rumlow composed a letter and sealed it, leaning back in his high corporate chair. "Let's hope this works," he muttered to himself.

The letter was placed on the edge of the desk to be brought to the gang leader.

(Bucky Point of View)

Steve was eyeing him readily, and it was making Bucky nervous. They were by a pond, fishing. But what upset Bucky most was he was pretty sure that Steve was wanting to press him for answers. Steve knew that Bucky was hiding something.

He did his best to ignore it. Finally, Steve cleared his throat. "Bucky?"

Tensing slightly, Bucky answered, "Yes?" in a stiff voice. He ignored his fishing pole as it gave a tug.

Steve's eyes flickered over to the pole. "I think you've got a fish, Bucky."

There was hesitation. "Oh." He hooked the fish and then began reeling it in. Sighing, he placed it, after it was dead, in a plastic bag so that they could take it home to eat.

Steve was still eyeing him. When he cast his fishing line out again, Steve waited a moment before trying again. "Bucky?"

Once again, he stiffened. "Yes?"

Steve paused, worried. "Is everything all right?" he asked in a soft voice.

He didn't know why. He should have still been defensive. But, at hearing Steve's legitimately concerned voice, he felt the tension in his body leaving. His shoulders shrugged. "No," he admitted. 'Everything is wrong. The whole world is wrong.'

Steve waited, and then nodded. He looked down. "I know you don't want me to pry, Bucky, but I'm here if you need me. I just want you to feel better."

"I feel better when I'm with you, Steve," Bucky admitted, and Steve had a sad smile on his face. He cast out again.

Both men sighed. There was silence, and Bucky did his best to work up courage to talk to Steve. "You know I'll have to leave again, right?"

Steve looked down. "Yeah."

"I know you don't like it," Bucky added. "But for now, would you understand it if I said that I need to be able to keep the peace?"

"I wouldn't like it," Steve admitted. "But, I've got no choice but to let you go."

"It won't be forever," Bucky promised. "He... He lets me come back. He knows I need you."

"If he supposedly cares so much," Steve was annoyed at this point. "Then why does he force you to go back when you don't want to?"

"At the same time, he doesn't have to let me go. None of my other handlers would ever have been willing to do that if they were alive. But he does," Bucky pointed out. He sighed. "Gosh, I want you to stop Hydra, Steve! I don't know how close he is, but I know he's close. Closer than Pierce was."

Steve stiffened at this. "He's letting you say this?"

"He doesn't tell me everything," Bucky admitted. He looked down some. "But there's something else going on. I guess he's playing a game, and I'm in the pawn in the middle. It's like, he's waiting for _**you**_ to make a move."

Steve was concerned. "Why?" was his demanding answer. But there was also a wariness and edginess to it that Bucky didn't like.

Bucky shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "It could be that there's a greater threat, one he can't deal with."

"And so he needs me to pick up the pieces," Steve was annoyed, and frustrated at the same time. "He's maneuvering me to deal with it so that he can lead Hydra clear to it's goals."

Bucky looked down. "Yeah."

Frustrated, Steve stood up and started pacing. His voice was barely contained. "We know you broke into Wakanda's computer system," Steve whispered. Bucky stiffened. Steve knew. Then again, this was Wakandan technology. They had to have a way to find out. "What you took, I still don't know. I know he's forcing you to work for him." He stopped pacing and looked at Bucky. "Are you really just going to give up?"

"It beats not coming home to you!" Bucky snapped. Then he held his mouth. He'd gone to far. He knew.

Compassion was on Steve's features. "You're in an impossible situation," Steve murmured apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Silence reigned again. "I know," Bucky replied after a bit. "But, somehow I'm hoping that you can take advantage of this situation, turn it around."

"You're still linked somehow to Rumlow," Steve pointed out.

"And I always will be," Bucky pointed back.

"And maybe," Steve's face lit up with an idea. He turned to face Bucky.

"Maybe we can use that to our advantage."

(Steve Point of View)

They'd left Bucky in his room while Steve went to discuss his thoughts with T'Challa, who was currently walking beside him down the vast hallway. "I told you we might have to use him to get at Rumlow," T'Challa pointed out. The man shook his head.

"But I never considered that it might be a way to give Bucky potentially more freedom. If we have Rumlow captive, as long as we can ensure that Bucky won't be forced to break him out, Bucky might have more freedom," Steve was deep in though.

But worry was on T'Challa's face. "And you've unfortunately mentioned that to Bucky, which means Rumlow will be aware of our plans at some point."

"It's still our best bet," Steve pointed out.

"Yes," T'Challa was reluctant. "I just didn't want the enemy to know."

Steve shrugged, sighing a little. "Too late now," he muttered.

T'Challa acknowledged that. "Indeed."

(Bucky Point of View)

He was humming, listening to some country music on his ipod. In truth, he didn't know what to think about the genre. It was so different from the swing music he was used to when he was growing up. But, it was something to do, a way to occupy time as we he waited in bed.

There were guards outside his door, he knew. He could hear them outside, chatting occasionally. They were there to make sure he stayed put, that he didn't run off. Other than that, they passed on reports to Steve.

A calming feeling from his handler came over him. Brock knew that he was incredibly, incredibly bored. While some books had been given to him, on the corner of his desk in his room, he didn't have any interest in it. It just wasn't the same as spending time with a certain someone who had yet to show up that day.

Finally, around noon, Steve showed up. The man was in jeans and a t-shirt, as the door opened revealing him, the guy's hands in his pockets, staring down out Bucky with a sad smile, Bucky turned to the right to stare at him.

Steve walked slowly forward, the door shutting. "How you doing?"

Bucky frowned. Taking the earbuds out of his ears, he commented. "What happened to music? Why's it so strange nowadays?"

Steve chuckled, lighthearted when he heard this. "I don't know," he admitted, sitting on the side of his bed, facing him. "It took me some time to get used to. The truth is, I don't think I've adjusted either. I'm not sure I ever will."

Bucky frowned again, sitting up on Steve's left side. "I tried heavy metal. I couldn't stand the screaming."

Wincing, Steve replied, "Natasha tried to get me hooked on that. I had to politely tell her that I wasn't interested."

"Just the screeching sounds they used hurt my ears," Bucky continued. "Man, I thought music would advance."

"It isn't all bad!" Steve defended. "I listened to some pop the other day. The style is... different compared to what we're used to. But, at least it has a tune."

Bucky laughed a little. "They all seem to be "make up and break up" songs."

Steve laughed with him. "No more songs about how life is, other than romance, right?"

"No originality, compared to our generation!" Bucky agreed. Then he stared off in deep thought. Things were silent for a bit. "Do you miss... back then?"

Steve was silent, looking down at his hands on his lap. "Yeah," he finally agreed. "I feel like... we were both robbed of opportunities... especially you."

"You missed as much in the ice as I did," Bucky pointed out.

Turning over to his friend, Steve countered, "But you went through worse than I did."

Bucky paled, looking away. It was still hard for him to grasp sometimes. It was a reality he had to deal with. Hydra, to this day, still had a grip on him. Would he ever be rid of them? Then there were his confusions about Brock. He didn't know what to think about the man. He had... more freedom with Brock. But, still, the man could be strict when he viewed it as necessary. So, Bucky got used to playing the game, catering to Brock almost. Every once and a while he slipped up and lost privileges.

Bucky flinched when he realized that Steve was looking at him in concern. "Oh, come on, aren't you going to cheer me up?"

Immediately, Steve brightened. "I can do that," Steve smiled.

They spent the next half hour in nostalgia, talking about the past, but deliberately avoiding certain things, and certain times, so as not to aggravate Bucky. "I miss the pies that Mrs. Brown would bake," Bucky reminisced.

Steve was smiling in humor, remembering their mischievousness, but also staring at Bucky in surprise. "You remember that?" he was awed.

Uncomfortably, twitching, Bucky replied, "A little. My past is still somewhat fuzzy. But given enough time, I remember more and more, some good things, some bad." He turned to his friend. "But that doesn't mean I don't remember our relationship, or the feelings of our relationship. I remember how close friends we were, how we used to spend all our time together, even going so far as to go on double dates. You were... still are... family."

Steve smiled sadly and placed his hand on Bucky's shoulders. "And I always will be, Buck. Always."

There was silence again.

Finally, Bucky knew it was time to bring up one of the subjects that both of them were carefully avoiding, despite the fact that he knew it would sour the situation. "What are you going to do with Brock?"

He looked away, not sure if he could stand to look at Steve's face.

Silence reigned, and it felt cold all of a sudden. Bucky shivered from the cold, and he chanced a glance at Steve. Steve appeared to be in shock, like he didn't know quite what to say.

Finally, breaking the silence, Steve gently replied, "Bucky, I'm not sure I should discuss that with you."

Tears formed in his eyes, but he nodded to Steve, looking away. "Because I won't like it," Bucky guessed.

There was more silence. Then, Steve stood up. "I'll give you some space," he promised.

Immediately, Bucky was on his feet, holding his arm so that he wouldn't leave. "NO! Don't go! Just... Just... Just stay!"

Steve stopped, turning around. Looking compassionately at Bucky, he nodded. "I'll stay," he promised.

To make sure that he stayed, Bucky wouldn't let go of him. He forced Steve to walk back with him and to sit on the bed beside him. Steve complied.

Things were silent as the two men sat side by side. Bucky wasn't sure what to say. Barnes glanced at Rogers. "What's for dinner?"

Chuckling, Steven nudged his friend with his shoulders. "Don't know. They'll never tell me. Always say it's a surprise."

A small smile crept up on Bucky's face. "Yeah." He could see that happening. Shuri always made sure that any gadgets she made him were a surprise. Whenever she made modifications on the arm, she would never tell him what she was doing. She'd always keep him guessing. "Guess it's a Wakandan thing."

Steve smiled as well. But, there was a hint of sadness there as well. Bucky didn't know what to do. He could feel him curling in on himself. Steve still wasn't satisfied with his answers. But, neither was Bucky with him. Guess they even.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, Steve reassured him, "Bucky, we're doing everything we can to get you out of Hydra's grip. I promise. It's not good that you're in bondage and service like this."

"What if I want to be?" Bucky challenged, just to get him to back off.

Steve shook his head. "I don't believe it."

The thing was, neither did Bucky. Some part of him was attached, and didn't want to leave Brock's service. But the other part... He didn't know what to do. He was torn.

Sighing, he put his head on Steve's shoulder, a little sleepy. "Wake me up when dinner's here," he mumbled.

"Okay," Steve chuckled.

Bucky fell asleep.

(A little later)

There were soft voices talking outside the door to his room. Bucky was wide awake. They didn't know he was awake, though, he was fairly sure of that.

Steve was out there, talking to the doctors. "You sure that we shouldn't tell him?" Steve was saying.

"No," a voice said. "It will ruin the element of surprise. We desperately need that."

"I hate keeping him in the dark."

"I know."

He was on his side, facing away from the door. When the door opened, he snapped his eyes shut quickly. He didn't want them to know that he'd overheard anything. And Bucky was sure that Rumlow would ask about this. He didn't look forward to that.

The door opened slightly, and Bucky remained as still as he could, breathing deeply to mimic sleep. He felt someone sit on the edge of the bed. The hair that was in front of his face was moved behind his ears. Meanwhile the door closed.

When the door closed, Bucky's ear tickled as someone whispered into it, "I know you're awake. You don't need to pretend to be asleep." It was Steve.

Hesitating a moment, Bucky slowly opened his eyes and looked at his friend, who was in red pajamas. Steve was worried, as always. "How much did you overhear?" he murmured softly.

Shaking his head, Bucky refused to talk.

A sad expression was on Steve's face. He put his hand on Bucky's shoulders. "How did you know?" Bucky finally asked.

Smiling slightly, though it was still sad, Steve replied, "You and I grew up together, remember? Of course I knew you were faking it." He was sad then. "I wish I knew before. They thought you were asleep. You shouldn't have had to hear that."

"Then," and Bucky turned to him. "You know that I'll have to ask then, right?"

Steve didn't like that, he knew. "I can't tell you anything."

"It won't hurt, will it?" Bucky blurted out suddenly. That was the last thing he wanted to face.

A shocked expression was on Steve's face, like he couldn't believe that Bucky would ask something like that. Then his face was filled with worry, almost like he was wondering what Bucky would have to have gone through in order to ask something like that. "No... Why would you say something like that?!"

He held back. He knew Steve wouldn't understand. While Brock was less prone to hurt him, at least physically, at the same time he was beginning to remember that some of his previous handlers, including Pierce, would sometimes order very suddenly, without him understanding what he did wrong, some very painful procedures.

It was all in the name of maintaining him, or for furthering Hydra's goals. The third time he received the serum, after stealing it from Stark, was one of those. They often ordered it without any advanced warning, leaving him emotionally unprepared, not that he was emotional back then.

Steve was waiting for him to say something. Bucky shook his head. "I don't like being in the dark," he admitted. After all, Hydra, especially under his handlers other than Brock, had never really told him what they were doing when they did those painful procedures. Brock was more likely to tell him, but even he held back a lot.

But for Brock, the man seemed to be under the impression that he couldn't handle the truth, even though that was what he needed. He knew Brock could feel that need, but still the man didn't think it was justifiable to tell him. The man almost thought that keeping Bucky in the dark was better for his health and sanity instead of telling him.

"Bucky?" Steve asked when he saw his friend drifting off into thought.

"Sorry," Bucky murmured, putting his flesh hand to his head. "Just thinking."

"Is... Is everything okay?" and he knew that Steve was going into worry mode.

"Yeah. Why?"

"You're spacing out," Steve explained.

Oh. That **_would_** explain why Steve was so worried. He had to remember not to do that around Steve.

"Sorry," Bucky muttered again, and Steve wrapped him in a hug. He didn't know why, but suddenly it felt so unnatural. "Steve!" he protested. "You're squishing me!"

"Sorry," his friend murmured. He pulled back. "I just don't like seeing you like this!"

Letting out a big, deep breath, Bucky knew they'd met a standstill. "Is there an activity we can do?" he was practically begging.

Steve smiled.

"Do you feel up for fishing?"

(Brock Point of View)

Brock was pacing. He knew his Asset would have delivered the message to Steve by now. Now all he had to do was wait, and see if Steve would act on the little hint. The problem was, waiting was difficult.

Already, Hydra was in negotiations with several gangs. He did his best to play them, in order to serve Hydra's best interests. Several had come back that they'd fulfill his request, with, of course, conditions.

After having reviewed them, Brock had decided to tell a flat out no to three of them, thus dropping them from the list. But, the possibilities were still out there with the rest, if could get a good deal, that is.

His home was comfortable, and he sat in the sofa. He wanted to call back his Asset soon. Yes, Bucky would complain, as he wouldn't have been with Steve for very long, but that could be amended in a number of ways. Service to Hydra had to come first. And he needed Bucky in order to push the gangs.

He didn't think he was going to need him. He thought he'd be able to leave Bucky with Steve for a couple of weeks. But, things changed.

He'd hold out as long as he could. If he could get a good deal, then maybe he wouldn't have to bring his Asset in so soon, and Bucky could spend more time with Steve.

And so, it was a waiting game.

Not that it was easy. Far from it, in fact.

Brock knew he would have to calm down so Barnes wouldn't feel his stress. That was the last thing he wanted, especially since he wanted Bucky relaxing. The more relaxed Bucky was, the better he could perform. And he needed Bucky to be at the top of his performance.

Taking some deep breaths, Brock calmed down some. He would hear back soon, anyways.

His cellphone rang. He picked it up. "Hello?"

"Brock," a voice said on the other end, Jack. "You've got a deal."

Brock did his best to keep his excitement in. "Which gang?" he asked.

He knew Jack had a smile on his face.

(Bucky Point of View)

The next few days were spent fishing with Steve. They both avoided the topics that Bucky didn't want to talk about. At the same time, Bucky felt like his visit time with Steve was coming to a close. So, he did his best to make the moments as memorable as he could.

Bucky didn't like it. He was leaving Steve heartbroken, he knew. And Steve was purposefully avoiding the subject for his sake.

Now, Steve didn't like it that he was silent on the subject, even though he was respecting his space. But the man seemed more likely to wait for him. However, Bucky decided to turn the tables by pushing Steve on a different subject instead. "Steve?" he asked while they were fishing.

"Yes?" Steve turned to look at him, placing his fishing pole down, probably not the best move.

Bucky was hesitant. "What do you and the king have planned for me?"

Steve frowned. "Bucky," he began hesitantly. "You know I can't discuss that with you."

"Why not?" Bucky complained.

Instead, Steve turned the tables. "Would you be willing to talk to me about what you and Brock have been up to?" Bucky was abnormally silent. None the less, Steve gave him a few extra moments to answer. Then, finally replying, he said, "That's what I thought."

A bit miffed, Bucky turned away. He didn't like being kept in the dark. His handler kept him in the dark all the time as it was.

When Steve saw this, he turned and put his hand on Bucky's shoulders. "Can you trust me?" he begged his friend.

But, the truth was, he wasn't sure that he could. "I don't know," he admitted. It was just so hard to trust. He felt like if he let the control out of his hands, then things would get worse. Maybe, then again, that was why he had troubles with trust, because his life was so much out of his control.

Putting his pole down, he put his head in his hands. Steve dwarfed him in a hug. "Hey," he murmured softly. "It's not so bad. I'm retired now, and I can devote all my time to you."

"You're not retired if you have a side business," Bucky pointed out.

Steve frowned. "Maybe, but I still have a lot of time for you. You know I'll spend it with you."

Sighing, looking up, Bucky was in worry. "I'm not sure," he murmured softly. "I'm not sure... I can."

Things were a little awkward after that. "I don't want things to end," Steve admitted. "I can't loose you again. But, I'll be willing to help you however you need."

"Thanks," Bucky wiped some moisture that was definitely _**not**_ tears. He couldn't cry. He didn't want to cry. He'd cried enough in his life as it was. Snuggling closer to Steve, he hid his face so that his friends couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

It was a long while before they pulled apart. Steve continued to hold him. He knew his time was coming up, and it just seemed so short to him. It was difficult to leave his friend again. But, he knew he'd be back.

For a while, they didn't talk. Bucky was glad to have his presence near, even if he knew his time was coming to a close. He knew that Steve suspected, but he also knew that Steve knew that there was nothing he could do. And that part of it was heartbreaking.

As he thought more on things, he began to realize that maybe that was part of why he was here. Rumlow knew he needed Steve, but at the same time he had a hidden agenda while Bucky was at it. He wanted to set Steve up to do something for him, knowing that he would. It was carefully planned.

That night, as he went to bed, he felt the strong pull to get up and go to the beach. Sighing, he obeyed, reluctant to leave his family behind.

Jack Rollins was waiting for him, a submarine nearby. "You ready?" he asked softly.

Shaking his head, but obedient, he entered the submarine.

(A few days later)

He was standing in front of Rumlow, wary. The strength that the man possessed now rivaled his. Rumlow had just taken a report from him, and he was pacing around his office, deep in thought.

At this point, Bucky broke protocol, taking a risk. "What do you have planned for Steve?"

To his surprise, Rumlow wasn't mad. He turned back to Bucky curiously, debate in his features about what to tell his Asset. "I know that Wakanda sent spies," he finally changed the subject. "We had to drive them out. They tried to steal information on you."

Bucky's gut clenched. He felt hopeless. He knew it was an attempt to do something to free him. He only hoped the individuals had escaped.

Rumlow seemed to understand his feelings, and while his face disapproved, he was compassionate as well. "Much as I wanted to, we didn't catch them. We have no idea where they're at now. But you can't afford to side with the enemy, Bucky. You can't consider them friends. You're Hydra. Nothing's going to change that."

A shiver went down his spine at the mild reprimand. When he didn't say anything, Rumlow approached him further. "I know you don't want to be here," he murmured softly, hugging Bucky. He pulled back and cupped his cheek gently as Bucky looked down, distraught. "But you need to give Hydra a chance. This is _**home**_ to you."

"Not by choice," Bucky whispered back. Ever since Rumlow had become a super soldier, their bond had been stronger. He was now more subservient than ever. And Rumlow knew it.

Rumlow wrapped him in a hug again. How long they stared there, he didn't know. But, when he pulled away, he sighed. "Let's go home," he murmured softly.

He was led back to the house, tired as could be. For him, it had been a long journey. They'd spent a couple hours of personal time together already, Brock sitting by his side on the couch of his office and holding him in one arm, hugging him, while he asked him about what had transpired with Steve. The bond was always strongest at points like this, making Bucky more compliant. He felt comfortable around Brock, strange to say, when the man was being affectionate, like an older brother to him.

All his handlers had been like that to him at certain times. It was so much easier for him to talk then, as the comfort and feeling of home kicked in for reasons he didn't understand.

Bucky just wanted to rest. He didn't like that he was betraying Steve like this, but at the same time he had no choice.

Going to his room, Brock followed him. When he collapsed on his bed, he was tucked in, and Rumlow sat on the edge of the bed. "You don't need to worry, you know," the man murmured to him softly. "You're safe here."

Bucky didn't know what to say. It was almost like therapy sometimes. "I don't feel safe," he finally confessed.

Once more, Rumlow cupped his cheek, looking sad. "I know," he closed his eyes and then, after a moment, opened them again. "But, given time, I hope you will be. This is your life now. And when Hydra has the world, this will be all you can have."

He didn't want Hydra to have the world. But, he knew his handler was close. And, so with caution, he did his best to keep his feelings under wraps.

Brock looked at him, considering him for a moment, concern in his eyes. "You need more therapy," he told him, and Bucky shivered. "You just haven't had enough. But, I've been talking to your doctors. There are some things we can try that I think will help calm and soothe your soul, make it easier for you to adjust here."

Bucky froze. Brock got up and left the room, shutting the door quietly.

He was almost panicked, his gut clenching, and Rumlow sent a soothing feeling through the link, a feeling that it would be all right.

'Oh, Steve!' Bucky thought to himself, keeping his breathing under control. 'Hurry up! I don't know how much longer I can last!'

He could only hope that Steve would succeed before Rumlow did.

(The Next Day)

He was in the therapy room again. They were getting ready to prep him for another treatment. How many more of these he had to go through, he didn't know. But he knew they were changing tactics with him. And he was nervous and scared.

"Relax," Jack Rollins, who was next to him said. "You know your handler wouldn't hurt you."

Some part of Bucky wondered how different Brock's definition of 'harm' was. Jack seemed to pick up on this, because he put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it'll all be over soon. You don't need to worry about it."

Bucky really hoped that Steve stopped Rumlow soon. It was getting too hard to resist him, and the bond between the two of them kept increasing. With Brock using Bucky to maneuver Steve, he had doubts that his friend would be able to concentrate and see things the way that would help him to stop Hydra. Brock was counting on that.

A gurney lay in front of him, and they motioned Bucky to get on. Bucky didn't know what he should do. If he resisted, he would be punished. Perhaps, considering the way Brock was, it wouldn't be physical. At the same time, it would mean at the very least lost privileges. Brock had made that abundantly clear the least time.

On the other hand, if he cooperated he'd probably be rewarded. Unfortunately, his obedience would ensure that they did whatever it was they were going to do to him, meaning he'd probably be further in their clutches. Then again, if he resisted, they'd still do it anyways, but there would be punishments attached. So, in the end, did he really have a choice?

He didn't know what to do. So, he hesitated. They watched him calmly, patiently waiting for him. Finally, deciding that he'd rather continue seeing Steve, and believing that resistance was pointless, he opted to move of his own accord.

"Well done," they praised him when he walked over, somewhat willingly. They continued offering him praises, including Rollins. One of the doctors told him, "We'll have to talk to Brock about giving you a reward after this."

Part of him was eager about the fact that he was getting a reward. "Can I choose?" he tentatively asked, knowing he was taking a risk.

The doctors smiled kindly at him. "That's for your handler to decide." Huh. How unfortunate.

As an IV was placed in his arms, Bucky continued considering his options. He had realized at this moment that perhaps it was best to pick his battles. While he feared his control over his life was slipping, at the same time, he knew that he wasn't really in a position to resist. So, would it even be worth it?

A calm feeling entered his body. He was feeling so tired... so tired.

"Don't resist," the lead doctor's perfectly smooth voice said, reassuring in it's tone. Bucky didn't know if he could resist anyways.

It was weird that they'd made this concoction just for him. Before Brock, they hadn't cared researching enough to find a pain killer and an anesthetic that was strong enough for him. This led to him experiencing many horrors.

But this sedative was extremely strong, and knowing Brock, he'd ensure it was safe. They couldn't afford to loose their "Asset".

His eyes began closing. Darkness was surrounding him, he took one last time to look into Rollin's eyes for reassurance. The man gave him it in his expression.

Then, he was out like a light.

(Steve Point of View)

Steve had known it was inevitable that his friend leave, but that didn't make it any easier. He'd informed T'Challa the moment he did. T'Challa let him go, knowing it was pointless. It was part of their plan, anyways.

Steve was currently pacing around in a room, T'Challa and Shuri there. "He'll be fine for now," T'Challa said, but even he sounded unsure. "We must let them believe they are winning."

"You said your spy got caught, though," a distressed Steve said.

T'Challa nodded. "We know there are many people trying to grab him. Considering that, it makes sense that Hydra would be extra cautious, and thus his failure."

"Did he even get anything on Bucky?" Steve turned to T'Challa.

When the king shook his head, Steve was distressed again. But T'Challa put a hand on his shoulder. "There is a bright side, though. We may not have been able to get close to Bucky, but we did learn a bit about how Hydra operates- from the inside. This could prove useful."

"Bucky seems to think they're close," Steve murmured. "Also, someone's causing problems for Hydra."

There was hesitation. "And us," T'Challa confirmed. That's when Steve knew that they were hiding something from him. "Remember those people that attacked the slavers while Clint was held hostage?" T'Challa asked. Steve gave a reluctant nod. T'Challa continued, "They were the ones behind the bombing in Wakanda. That much we've determined. Some how, information was leaked. What's more, Steve, they've made several attacks on Hydra."

"In many ways that's good."

"No," T'Challa hesitated again. "I'm suspecting that Brock gave that hint because he wants us to take care of it. And, unfortunately, with the situation the way it is, we're going to have to."

"What situation?" Steve was alarmed. When no one answered him, he turned to Shuri. "What situation?"

She looked at her brother reluctantly. Then, pulling out a tablet, she showed Steve a report. "They've infiltrated governments everywhere. They've been causing problems in numerous country, ransoms and what not. It's getting out of hand. What's more, there's evidence that they're communicating with hostile extra terrestrials."

"Like it or not," T'Challa explained. "They're the bigger threat. With them dealing with others outside of this world, we're going to have to deal with them. We can't afford them bringing another alien invasion on this planet."

"Which is something Hydra would never do," Steve realized, and he gulped as that meant that Bucky wasn't their top priority anymore. That meant that Hydra would have time to do whatever it was they were doing to him while Steve and the governments of the rest of the world cleaned up this mess.

He didn't like it. It wasn't fair. It gave Hydra time to maneuver. It gave Hydra time to harm Bucky. But, with bigger problems, there wasn't much of a choice. But Steve couldn't help feeling like they were forsaken Bucky, especially when he needed them the most.

"Hydra played their cards well," T'Challa was upset.

It wasn't the ideal situation for any of them, but Steve sighed, realizing it was what it was. His help was going to be needed for this, which meant he couldn't focus on Bucky as much.

"I don't like it," Steve admitted, handing the tablet back to Shuri. "But it can't be changed. This is the bigger issue." And he was reluctant to acknowledge it. He hated leaving Bucky in harms way. But they didn't have a choice.

"They're master planners," Shuri acknowledged of Hydra.

Steve wanted to mourn, but he knew he didn't have time. All he could hope was that he'd be able to solve the crisis quickly so that he could get back to rescuing his brother.

(Bucky Point of View)

He was in and out of consciousness. His mind was swimming many times. Sometimes he heard voices, sometimes he didn't.

All in all, it was disorienting. He didn't understand what the voices were saying, and many times he wanted to groan, but couldn't.

There was no pain involved. In fact, he was without sense. He wasn't even aware of his surroundings, or any emotions. There was no feel of anything on his skin. He was simply... floating... existing.

Deep in his subconscious, he knew who he was. His memories were vague and fuzzy, and he dreamed somewhat. But, when he tried to reach out in his dreams towards a certain blonde, they would stop suddenly.

By the time he started waking up again, he was exhausted. He didn't feel anything other than tiredness. His eyes opened some and he saw through blurry vision figures talking over him. But he didn't hear anything.

They fuzzy faces looked down at him and he was pulled back into a deep sleep.

It continued like this for some time. How long it did, the man didn't know. But, finally, he came to.

He was in an infirmary, and there was a mask over his face. He was dressed in scrubs. But, even more, he was strapped down. He couldn't move, being paralyzed from the neck down by whatever drugs they had him on. That's when he knew, they didn't want him resisting. He could only turn his head somewhat.

Brock was by his side, looking at him carefully. Bucky's head was swimming. He knew he was Bucky, but he was too exhausted to remember anything else.

He was comforted, though, by his handler's appearance. He couldn't help but relax.

Brock had a kind smile on his face. "How are you doing?" he asked his Asset.

Bucky couldn't think. But, he knew his handler could feel his emotions. He sent feelings of tiredness across, and Brock nodded.

Bucky was so relaxed. He just wanted to sleep.

"Sleep then," his handler commanded.

Bucky did just that. He was out in the blink of an eye.

More voices sounded over him. He wasn't sure what they were saying. But, he thought he heard his handler's tones. And that floating feeling was back. He was so relaxed. He didn't feel a need to resist.

Moreover, he felt safe.

He could feel the bond with his handler tighten up. He knew he was out there, watching him.

For how long he was like this, he didn't know. But he eventually woke up. Once more, he was in white, cotton scrubs. He was restrained again. But he was so relaxed. He thought he heard his handler mention something about a mission, but he wasn't sure. His eyes were closed and as he opened them, things were more fuzzy than before. But he could make out two figures in the infirmary, and he knew one was his handler.

They were talking softly, and Bucky couldn't understand them. But he wasn't worried. He knew he was safe. He was **_always_** safe with his handler.

The figure that wasn't his handler walked over, and a flashlight was shined into his eyes, the doctor's movements gentle. More chatter broke out, and Bucky closed his eyes, wanting to sleep.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, he got a nudge from his handler to stay awake. He obeyed. The doctor spoke to him, and when Bucky didn't respond, the flashlight was shined in his eyes again. Then, he was aware of pressure on his wrist as his pulse was taken.

More chatter ensued, and Bucky awaited permission to fall asleep.

Finally, the permission came.

Bucky drifted off.

 **I appreciate everyone's patience in awaiting for this chapter to come out. I can assure you, this story is NOT abandoned.**

 **Please review!**


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